Love the One You’re With

The days are warm and sunny in Green Cove Springs once we move aboard Strathspey but it’s a race to finish all the basic ‘get-us-more-south’ tasks because the temps drop to 8 Celsius each night. These tasks are ones that let us leave dock safely but not necessarily in comfort; things like having the mast stepped, engine running, installing our outboard engine on Strathspey’s stern rail and, most importantly, adding our foresail and mainsail.

Sunday, we take a break from the constant go, go, go because it’s warm and sunny at 25 Celsius. So, we lower our new Yamaha outboard motor onto our dinghy and test out the Yamaha’s vroom vroom. We explore down the river and make a circuit of the Green Cove Springs marine area and, at one point, Blair cranks the outboard up to full-throttle. We clock our speed at 34 km/hour; vroom, vroom! That night Blair feels a culinary urge and makes spaghetti carbonara and it’s wonderfully decadent….pancetta, parmigano regiano, mushrooms and, get this, 35% cream…..woohooo!

Despite the cold nights, we sleep well under our down duvet but every morning there’s a discussion over who leaves the bed first to turn on our Espar heater. It never takes longer than 5-10 minutes for the interior of Strathspey to get to room temp but that first tentative step on the wooden floor in bare feet makes us calculate how long it will be before we can head a little further south. As part of those calculations, we rationalize that it makes sense to hire the boatyard to polish and wax Strathspey’s deck and unsurprisingly they are happy to add that job to their kitty.

New Rigging

New rigging installation

On Saturday December 17th it’s warm enough that the Espar is NOT on and we are in shorts and T-shirts. I spend the weekend clearing out our storage locker and we store the last of the items aboard Strathspey. I call ahead to St Augustine and Ft Pierce to reserve a mooring ball and dock for next week. The mast is stepped Monday morning and Blair spends the day adjusting all our new rigging. As night falls we make the last adjustments to our ‘taco’ – that’s the stack pack setup that holds our mainsail above the boom when we’re not sailing. It’s been a beautiful day at 28 Celsius and feels like a warm summer evening even after the sun sets. Blair won’t stop fiddling with ‘things’ on the deck, mostly because I’ve told him that we need to make a 7 am departure tomorrow morning in order to be at the Jacksonville Main Street bridge before noon. The Main Street bridge is undergoing a $10 Million upgrade and is on a reduced opening schedule and opens only six times a day. If we miss the noon opening we’ll be twiddling our thumbs until 4:30 pm and worrying about making it to a good anchorage before nightfall.

We leave the dock just after 7 am and it’s almost like Strathspey doesn’t want to leave here after her two-year hibernation because we drag through the mud all the way out. We start out with four feet under Strathspey’s keel, then we go to two feet, then one foot, 0.9 feet, 0.5 feet. Eventually our depth meter reads -0.4. How is this possible!? It’s too much for me and I hand the wheel over to Blair and stand on Strathspey’s bow so I can measure our slow progress against the pier and, more importantly, where I can’t see the depth meter or hear the incessant low-water alarm beeping. The sludge here is deep and soft and black and squishy so we can see no depth beneath our keel yet still plow a furrow and not come to a complete stop. Finally at the end of the 200-foot pier we break free and motor out into deep water and make a quick left to head down the St Johns River toward Jacksonville.

Fog on St Johns River

Fog on St Johns River

It’s foggy this morning. We can only see 75 feet ahead and behind Strathspey and the sun that will hopefully burn off this fog is slow to rise as there are low cloud banks east of the river. Blair drives from waypoint to waypoint and he’s switched on our radar to help discern any obstacles out there. Me, I’m just nervous with this fuzzy fog in my eyes and I stand at the bow scanning ahead for the red or green buoys that Blair tells me he thinks we are approaching, according to the chart plotter at the helm. I see nothing. It’s too hazy. That’s all there is until around 9 am when the warm of the sun finally lifts the fog.

We arrive at Jacksonville’s Main Street bridge a half hour early for their noon opening so I take the wheel to hover in the channel while Blair fixes our flag halyards and hoists our USA and Florida courtesy flags. I contact the bridge tender and he tells me that I need to be close to the bridge and ready to go at by 11:45 because this must be a quick opening. At 11:55 am I’m as close as I am comfortable and we hear a call from another sailboat coming down the river about eight minutes away but, when they call the bridge tender, he says he can’t wait for them. ‘Sorry captain, I’ve got a crew of Contractors working on this bridge and we’re going into the air in two minutes – you’ll have to wait until the 4:30 opening’. Burn! Three minutes too late.

We continue through the bridge and downstream to a new anchorage for us, between Blount and Little Marsh Islands. It’s a quiet anchorage and, when we awake the next morning, all we can see are the anchor lights of two other boats shining very faintly through the heavy fog. It won’t be an early start like yesterday where we easily used our radar to ‘feel’ our way downstream in the fog on the wide-open St Johns River. Today, we have only a very short distance to travel on the river until we make a sharp right turn into the narrow ICW with its twists and turns and shallow spots. We want full visibility on the ICW and don’t haul our anchor up until 10:20 am.

Blair in his most favourite (not) position down our stern lazarette looking at swim platform motor

Blair in his most favourite (not) position down our stern lazarette looking at swim platform motor

Five miles into our day, moments after we turn south and enter the ICW, we are hailed by the US Coast Guard. They ask us when we were last boarded by the Coast Guard and Blair says in 1999 by the Canadian Coast Guard. Quite politely they ask permission to come aboard and could we please slow our vessel so two of their officers can step over…..of course we will! Blair sets out fenders on our port side as I slow Strathspey down to idle speed, under two knots. The 30-foot coast guard vessel (Defender Class Response Boat) motors up beside us and two youngish officers step aboard while the other three crew stay aboard their vessel. First question to us was whether we had any weapons onboard. No Sir! They check our registration, our Permission to Proceed document (we’d just picked that up in Jacksonville from the US Homeland Security office on Friday, whew) and our regulation fire extinguishers. They check our bilge to ensure that no oil is leaking into it and then ask Blair to describe our MSD (we determine later that acronym stands for Marine Sanitation Device) – they basically want to know how our marine toilet works (i.e., that we’re not discharging any yuck overboard). They comment on the fact that we are both wearing life jackets and, 20 minutes later, they shake hands with both of us and step off Strathspey and we’re on our way again. Everything is in order aboard Strathspey!

7.5 hours later we arrive in St Augustine which is all lit up for Christmas with huge crowds roving the streets, enjoying the lights and all the neat little restaurants and pubs here. We grab a mooring ball north of the Bridge of Lions and, after showers and a quick walk through town, we are back to Strathspey to enjoy a quiet dinner in the cockpit with a beautiful view of the old fort and the picturesque waterfront.

Relaxing in the cockpit finally

Relaxing in the cockpit finally

Wednesday morning we drop the mooring ball at 7 am and head downstream without incident. It’s a long day when we finally pull into Halifax Harbor Marina and we’re glad to be at dock with access to unlimited water so we can spend some time cleaning Strathspey’s exterior, a job we’d neglected in favour of getting away from Green Cove Springs. We leave Halifax Harbor Marina the next day later than usual at 8:30 am. I planned this late departure because of the skinny water an hour south of us at Ponce Inlet. Many boats ground out here on the sandbars that shift back and forth with the tidal currents running in and out of the inlet. We time it so we pass this area just before high tide without any issues.

The issues appear as we hover north of the Coronado Beach bridge in New Smyrna Beach. Blair goes down below for some reason and he smells diesel fuel. He checks Strathspey’s engine and sees fuel hissing and foaming out of the top of one the engine’s three high-pressure fuel lines. This is a serious problem and, after motoring through when the bridge opens for us, we quickly radio our problem to the New Smyrna Beach City Marina. They find a slip for us and, because Blair has misplaced the tool he needs to tighten the nut that holds the high pressure line in place, we ask a mechanic recommended by the marina to help Blair sort out this problem. Between the two of them they tighten the nut very gently and, despite running the engine at high revs, the fuel leak is no longer visible. Hopefully, this is the fix that will do the job.

We had originally planned to book a slip at Ft Pierce for a week over Christmas and use that time to finish all the boat jobs that we had lined up before we set off for some serious cruising. Not happening. So many marinas were damaged in Hurricane Irma that the surviving ones are jam packed with no openings. All I could manage to secure for us near Ft Pierce was a mooring ball at the Vero Beach Municipal marina where we’d have to share a ball with two other boats – a hard setup with all the work we had planned. So, it seems we are lucky that our fuel line issue happened on the doorstep of the New Smyrna Beach marina as they just happened to have an available slip for us. I know it sounds like we are doing an awful lot of work on Strathspey, both new work and addressing failing systems but it’s worth it to us to be able to spend the winter cruising in warmer climes. Despite all the work, we still love being on Strathspey; gotta love the one you’re with…..

I make an executive decision and book us into the marina for a week. We’ll do all our boat jobs here instead of Ft Pierce. I call Enterprise rentals and book a car for us to drive up to Green Cove Springs to retrieve our own car. It’s warm and sunny here in the mid-20’s Celsius and this is a nice little marina, close to good restaurants and a relatively easy walk to a beautiful beach with soft, soft sand. The boat interior is finally clean enough that I can set out our new winter cruising mat at the bottom of our companionway stairs. We email our friends in Vero Beach to say that we will make the drive down on the 25th for Christmas Day dinner and we look forward to using the dinghy to explore an area of the ICW that we’ve never spent time in before.

Merry Christmas to all our family and friends!


After two winters spent in the snow and cold of Ottawa, we are back in Green Cove Springs, Florida getting ready to launch Strathspey. We left Strathspey at Holland Marine which is attached to Reynolds Park Yacht Center – both of which are good hurricane hidey holes as they are far inland down the St Johns River. These marinas use the old piers that were built to service navy warships and train service men; at one time there were almost 20,000 sailors and navy pilots stationed here. After the second world war there were over 600 ships docked at huge piers. Most of this has long since fallen into disrepair. Holland Marine has a few docks for boats and good haul out facilities though.

We waffle over whether Strathspey has fared well in this hot and sunny climate without daily TLC. When we consider that our boat has come through two major hurricanes unscathed (Mathew in 2016 and Irma in 2017), we feel pretty positive. But when we take stock of all the boat bits that need replacing this year due to salt corrosion and sun damage, we’re a little taken aback.

Our 17-year old windlass motor

Our 17-year old windlass motor

Back in Ottawa while planning our pre-launch boat projects, we had a few big items on our ‘fix or replace’ list and number 1 on that list was our 17 year-old anchor windlass. We’d had a lot of trouble with the windlass while in Cuba on our last cruise and Blair has taken it apart more than once to address corroded wires.

The windlass that we use to deploy 150 feet of chain is basically a two-part workhorse – a deck-mounted gypsy that guides the chain out of the water and into our anchor locker and a big motor that hangs unobtrusively below the deck and powers the windlass. After spending all this time in salt water, the motor was so corroded it was beyond fixing. As well, the chain stripper which forces the chain off the gypsy and down into the anchor locker had broken in half.

Shiny windlass

Our brand new windlass motor

Blair spends almost two days installing and wiring our new Lewmar windlass and it is now a thing of beauty on Strathspey’s bow. Alas, the foot pedals that power the windlass to bring the chain up and down have such corroded wires that we order new ones; another expensive item, another half day to install.

After Strathspey is splashed and we move aboard, we discover that all the important bits on our toilet are seized. At this point a functioning toilet is numero uno on our list of must-get-working bits. Strathspey’s toilet is 17 years old and, although Blair could rebuild it for probably the seventh time, he opts for a brand new toilet after scoping out all the other jobs on his ‘must do’ list. The toilet will be delivered on Thursday and I make plans to be away from Strathspey running errands while that particular installation takes place, as I know it will involve leaking hoses, heavy lifting and lots of cursing.

We have 25 gallons of diesel in our fuel tank and we’re concerned that, after sitting in this hot climate for two years, it will gum up our engine so Blair calls a mobile fuel polishing/filtration company to check our system. Best-case scenario is that we just need the fuel polished, a process which removes algae, any condensed water and other impurities. Worst-case scenario is that the fuel is bad and we need to have our diesel emptied and hauled away for expensive but environmentally safe disposal. The mobile unit arrives and after negotiating the money angle, a team of two rolls their mobile unit down the dock to Strathspey. Fuel, the polishing of, the filtration of and just about anything else you want to do to fuel is a finely honed business and it appears we have a team that knows their stuff. After the all-important ‘sniff’ test, they both agree that the fuel is just fine and probably only needs some polishing. That sniff test is for a whiff of sulphur, which would indicate that there is too much algae to try to salvage the fuel but we pass that test so all looks good. They move on to siphoning our 25 gallons of diesel through three filters and a water separator and remove some black ‘yick’ from the bottom of our tank and pronounce us good to go.

On the interior side of things, we purchased a Sirius satellite radio for Strathspey this fall and Blair installed it and we now have access to over a hundred stations. He programmed button #1 for the Beatles channel and #8 for CBC news but we’re also enjoying the NPR station as well. Friday and Saturday the temperatures plummet as a strong cold front moves through. At night the temps are down to near freezing but we are toasty inside with our Espar furnace running continuously, listening to good radio and working on all the ‘inside’ jobs (replaced the carbon monoxide alarm and the solar vent in one of our hatches and spliced shackles onto a few halyards). Sunday morning when we get up we see that there is frost on our car windshield! This is temporary though and the forecast is for mid-20’s Celsius by Tuesday. This is a good reason to never book a one-week trip to Florida to get away from the northern cold and snow; nice weather is iffy here at this time of year – it could be warm or it could be cold…luck of the draw.

I spend quite a bit of time schlepping boxes of boat stuff from our storage locker to Strathspey and, after two years away from it all, it’s been fun to open a box to discover what’s inside, much like an early Christmas. We’ve also been culling items from the boat – Blair discovers he has more than 20 T-shirts to stow away and there’s no way they will get stored aboard. I’m no better because upon our arrival here in Florida I bought tank tops and T-shirts, not remembering that I had left an entire summer wardrobe packed away in our storage locker.

I don’t do any major provisioning for Strathspey just yet but I do go grocery shopping for a very small amount of food so we can stop eating out at restaurants. We are reacquainted with US-South-of-the-border portion sizes very quickly and most often we share an entrée but this doesn’t always work given Blair’s predilection for things like meat loaf and liver with onions!

One day we go to the West Marine in Jacksonville to buy assorted boat bits but I have my eye on the Costco there so I drop Blair off and head out to try to find my way over to the Costco. Both the West Marine and the Costco are in the same mall but this is the biggest mall of my life! I actually have to enter the Costco address into our car’s GPS in order to find it.

Mast was only apart because of brand new rigging which is very, very shiny :)

Mast was only apart because of brand new rigging which is very, very shiny 🙂

Today, Blair finishes assembling the furling system on the mast (that’s the unit that whirls our foresail into a tight little roll after every sail). As well, he attaches all the new standing rigging that Holland Marine made for us. It was an all day job but it’s finally done and now we wait for one stupid little $20 part to install before we can lift the mast onto Strathspey and be an actual sailboat.

I get ambitious and make a trip to Lowe’s hardware and buy a screen replacement kit and start changing out all the screens on Strathspey that have started looking sad. It’s a neat little kit and I’ve amazed both of us with these well-stretched screens in both our companionway boards and two overhead hatches. I am my mother’s daughter!

So, it’s going slower than usual but we’re not complaining because there is no snow down here and any day on the water is a good day, yes?

Home again, home again, jiggety-jig.

We spend nine days holed up at Sunset Lake in the heart of South Beach, Miami. Thirty years ago South Beach was pretty down at heel and then people started thinking that ‘Hey, this is close to the beach and the land prices aren’t too bad’. Once that happened, the land prices started rising. Now, the average price of houses on Sunset Lake runs in the neighbourhood of six million dollars. The house sizes are close to 6,000 square feet, the lawns are manicured and the streets are busy with mostly hired help….that would be aka ‘servants’. We’re not unaware that we’re squatting here in the lap of luxury and we keep our noses clean; we’re quiet (i.e. Blair doesn’t play his bagpipes), we don’t hang towels on our lifelines to dry and we really try to refrain from spying on all the mega mansions with our binoculars (if that doesn’t work then we just ‘discretely’ spy on them).

Once we leave Sunset Lake though, we make good time north to Green Cove Springs and arrive at Holland Marine docks on a muggy, overcast day. We’re glad to be secure here as there are many days of rain and severe thunderstorms predicted…typical weather for Florida in the spring. Here we remove Strathspey’s sails and transport them to St Augustine for washing and storage. We empty the boat of anything that has a tendency to attract mold and mildew, take all the stuff to a climate controlled storage unit and wash Strathspey both outside and in to remove all traces of our past six-month cruise. We pace ourselves though because the temperatures here in Florida right now hover around the 30-Celsius mark and the extreme humidity ensures many water breaks.

It feels good to give Strathspey the TLC she deserves after this 2700-mile cruise around Cuba. Strathspey performed well as usual, Blair kept all systems maintained in top condition as usual and I navigated us so that Strathspey’s bow always pointed us in a clockwise manner around Cuba. Actually, there was a three-week period where we seemed to be going in circles around Isla de la Juventud but that was all weather-related so not a navigation-related issue. This was a long trip around Cuba but one we’d been planning for a long time. Feels good to have done it. Feels good to be home.

In the land of plenty

We loved Vinales. It was definitely slo-mo there. The evenings were cool and the days were sunny with gentle breezes. The people spoke slower than in Havana where we’d pretty much given up trying to converse in Spanish, other than to say ‘No, gracias’. The tourista hustle, so prevalent in Havana, was non-existent. We wandered the back streets in Vinales at ease, no one trying to sell us something, no one asking us for money or soap. Vinales felt prosperous, although prosperous is probably not the right word for any isolated village in Cuba. But it felt like everyone had what they needed. Our taxi guide told us that tourism and the tobacco industry has been ‘very kind’ to the people of Vinales so perhaps that’s why it was easy for us.

Our spot along the concrete wall in Canal #2, Marina Hemingway

Our spot along the concrete wall in Canal #2, Marina Hemingway

Back at Marina Hemingway, it’s hot, hot, hot. We have friends with a portable outdoor thermometer (Road to the Isles, a boat from Mahone Bay, Nova Scotia). Don delights in telling us that it is 95 degrees Fahrenheit … the shade!!! We shower twice a day in this heat and have all Strathspey’s sunshades deployed and all her fans going full blast. Brooklyn, up in Ottawa, tells us that there has been yet another snow storm so we don’t complain. But we are keen to grab the next weather window to cross back to the USA.

Once again, I’ve turned into that woman who calls weather guy, Chris Parker, constantly for a good weather window; my apologies to all the other subscribers who groan when I get acknowledged first in Chris’ weather broadcast order. Havana to Miami is probably a 30-hour trip for us, less if we get a good boost from the north-flowing Gulf Stream. A bonus for us is that Gerhardt and Rita on Amphora are here with us in Marina Hemingway so we take turns calling Chris Parker. Amphora is a Swiss-flagged Sun Odyssey who is also heading to Miami.

Friday the 13th is Blair’s birthday so once again he gets to celebrate one of his birthdays in Cuba (the last one was two years ago in Veradero). March 13 is also the evening that the Canadian embassy here in Havana celebrates Terry Fox Day. Friday night there’s a BBQ at the embassy to raise money so we taxi over with a big group of sailors from Marina Hemingway. The embassy is actually serving big Canadian-style hamburgers with French fries plus hotdogs. Blair tells me, ‘It’s my birthday and I’m playing my pipes at the Canadian embassy in Cuba tonight!’. Okay….so the bagpipes come along with us and, when we arrive, everyone has to line up and sign in. But…when they ask Blair what’s in the bag, he tells them they are bagpipes. The guards say, ‘Oh, you’re a musician, come on in and they escort him around the lineup, no worries about signing in.

The embassy is a pretty nice venue with tables set up around a big swimming pool and two or three BBQ’s going as well as a bar. Blair gets introduced to the guests and, just before dusk, he plays a three-part medley (a March, a Strathspey and a slow Air). The audience is divided; the North American/European contingent is ecstatic and cheering, the Cuban contingent is confused…what the heck is that instrument? Blair is pumped – he’s played his bagpipes for the Canadian embassy in Cuba….On his birthday no less.

Saturday night is Pi night. Brooklyn tells us that this is a big deal in North America and everyone is baking pies. Here at Marina Hemingway, there is a boat called Pi that has arrived from Isla Mujeres, Mexico. Aboard is Jan, a wonderful singer/guitarist, and she’s decided she is going to have a Pi party aboard the boat. She walks up and down the dock inviting everyone to swing by around 8 pm but at 7 pm, the skies open. It is torrential rain and we think the party must be cancelled as Pi has no cockpit to speak of and the party was intended to be on the dock beside the boat. There is a Russian, Denis, two boats east of us on a 60-foot Trumpy motor yacht with a covered back deck big enough for a dining table of sorts and a few sofas and many deck chairs so the party is moved down there. It was a great night of music with Blair and Jan playing.

Monday morning we get good news; there’s a good weather window opening up later this week. I download the grib wind files from and it looks like Wednesday or Thursday may be our lucky day. The stars align on Thursday and this is a good thing as we have been in Cuba almost three months; if we stay until Friday, we must renew our visa, which will entail a lengthy visit to a visa office in Havana plus $50. We leave the Customs dock at 8:30 am, motor out through the reef cut between the red and green buoys and turn Strathspey’s bow northeast toward Florida. Our first leg of the trip will be a long one, 128 miles, and will position us off Key Largo where we then start simply following the Florida Keys coastline for another 100 miles up to Miami.

We are 30 miles into the trip and about 55 miles due south of Key West (basically in the proverbial ‘middle of nowhere’) when a US Coast Guard plane appears overhead and circles us. We wave and continue on without any attempt on their part to contact us. The Coast Guard maintains a close watch on the Florida Straits waters between Key West and Havana. They deploy planes as well as high speed boats to not only prevent Cubans illegally entering the USA but to also nab any Americans trying to sneak a quick trip into Cuba and back.

Strathspey's new figurehead

Strathspey’s new figurehead

The sea is calm and the winds are relatively light all day. Around dusk a young seabird circles Strathspey and tries to land. We’re almost 22 miles from any land and this bird is obviously tired. He’s also pretty persistent. He lands on our mast spreader but immediately slips off; he’s got flat duck feet and can’t maintain his balance. He tries to land on Strathspey’s deck but we know that if he stays with us, the deck will be slimed with bird droppings so we shout at him, wave our arms, Blair even gets out our air horn and uses up an entire charge blasting the duck to no avail. This duck ignores us. He keeps circling wide from the bow to the stern, then lines himself up like he’s on a runway and swoops down on Strathspey’s stern. He lands on whatever he’s aimed at and then falls off and flies away again only to repeat the maneuver. This goes on for at least 45 minutes and when we finally give up yelling at him he lands on our pulpit rail and curls his flat little webbed feet around the rail. It can’t be comfortable – we’re sure he’s got cramps in his webs and he keeps losing his balance because of his poor grip and then pulling himself upright. He stays there all night and we think it must be like trying to sleep sitting up straight at the end of a workday riding the bus home. When he flies off the next morning, we see that there’s an awful mess on Strathspey’s bow.

As we head northeast, we reach the middle of the north-flowing Gulf Stream and now we have a nice boost of speed to help push us on. We’re excited and start recalculating our arrival time in Miami because we’re moving so fast. We also start thinking about what our first North American dinner will consist of – we’ve really missed the variety and quality of food that we usually take for granted while in Ottawa. Around midnight, the wind drops to 2 knots and the sea is glassy calm. As we approach Key Largo, we think we are now at the edge of the Gulf Stream because Strathspey is now making only 6.8 knots; normally a good speed but far less than when we were right in the middle of the Stream. Ten miles off Key Largo we make our turn to port to follow the Florida Keys northward and we know we are back in civilization because of all the flashing red lights spaced at regular intervals all the way up the Keys. These buoys mark the edge of the reef that lies off the Keys and it’s comforting to see them marking the way north.

Anchored in Sunset Lake

Anchored in Sunset Lake

Friday morning the sea is still flat, the wind is a light southeasterly, there isn’t a cloud in the sky and it is steamy hot. We motor north and by 4:00 pm we are entering the port of Miami. It’s Friday afternoon and it seems everyone with any kind of motorized boat has taken the afternoon off and they are all either out fishing or simply buzzing around Strathspey making waves. We drop anchor north of the Venetian Causeway in Sunset Lake, South Beach Miami, surrounded by multimillion dollar houses – 30 hours and 228 miles after leaving Havana. It’s so great to be back in the land of plenty. We immediately drop a big pile of money at the nearby Fresh Market buying every manner of fruit and vegetables available. We sleep a sound 10 hours, out cold, and the next morning after fresh strawberries for breakfast, we taxi to the Miami Port Authority and officially check into the US.

Our courtesy flag after three months of 20-knot winds

Our courtesy flag after three months of 20-knot winds

Friends ask what sailing the south coast of Cuba is like. In a word….Windy. We arrived in Puerta Vita on December 20, sailed 1500 miles around the coast to Havana and in the entire three months we might have had 10 days when the wind was under 20 knots. We sailed in 20 knots, 25 knots and once even in 31 knots. Another adjective that comes to mind is Remote. We sailed relatively long distances to get between secure anchorages and we often were the only boat out on the sea for days at a time. Yet, every time we anchored, no matter how remote the area, we’d get a visit from either an outpost Guarda Fronteras official or a fisherman wanting to trade or sell fish and lobster. Another thing I’d tell people about is the fishing – the excellent fishing and lobstering. We ate fresh-caught fish or lobster four or five times a week. We either caught it ourselves or traded for it with rum or soap, once or twice even paying a small amount of cash for it. The south coast of Cuba was an adventure we’re glad we took. It stretched our capacity for self-reliance and increased our confidence when sailing in big winds and high seas. Yet, like most adventures, it wasn’t terribly relaxing. We were on our toes all the time except when we took inland trips. So, now that we’re back in North America, we’re going to spend some time here in South Beach Miami and then cruise north to the Jacksonville area….but slowly. We’ll stop in West Palm Beach, Vero Beach and St Augustine for days at a time, dining out, walking the beaches and catching up with friends along the way. Blair says we are taking a holiday from our winter holiday on the south coast of Cuba but I say to everyone…..Go do it, you won’t regret it!