Ticktocking the inboard from forward to reverse, Rob quickly pivoted the 43-foot Jeanneau in the 50-foot-wide fairway to avoid clipping an incoming cabin cruiser. I stood on the bow of Illumine with a fender, heart racing as we barely cleared the stern of a shiny Beneteau in its slip. I could practically high-five the couple loading groceries into its cockpit. As Rob and I anxiously called instructions to each other across the deck, I hoped that the stressful beginning to our charter in the San Juan Islands wouldn’t set the tone for the rest of the week.

Mike Houston, co-owner of San Juan Sailing in Bellingham, Washington, gave a relieved thumbs-up from the dock as Rob cleared the obstacles and turned Illumine into the channel to Bellingham Bay. I was grateful that Mike had politely insisted on giving us a 30-minute maneuvering lesson before we left. And I was even more grateful that Rob had drawn the short straw and agreed to be at the helm in the marina’s tight quarters.

“Well, that’s not the least stressful thing I’ve ever done,” my husband admitted. “Nothing like learning a new boat with a big audience.”

We both relaxed once we put the sails up. The wind was a perfect 15 knots, the late August sun glinting off frothy whitecaps. Illumine settled into a close reach like it was her favorite pair of slippers, slicing smoothly south at 8 knots. She was the most comfortable monohull we’d ever sailed, a beamy and well-cared-for delight above- and belowdecks.

Our son, Talon, one week into 6 years old, stood on the bow with me watching for porpoises, while his 2-year-old sister, Lyra, napped in one of the stern berths. “It looks just like sailing on Flathead Lake,” he noted.

He was right: We’d driven 10 hours from our home in western Montana to arrive in similar scenery. Douglas firs and yellow grasses adorned the mountainous islands, which were layered like turtlebacks atop the gray-blue sound. A seal’s whiskered nose broke the surface to starboard. “We definitely don’t have those in Montana,” I told Talon.

An archipelago in northwestern Washington state, the San Juan Islands lie in the rain shadow of Vancouver Island. This makes their climate drier and sunnier than the temperate rainforest in the Seattle area, making them a favorite Pacific Northwest cruising ground. A few years prior, our family had taken the ferry to the southern San Juans, where we camped on Lopez, Shaw and Orcas. We were excited to check out the more remote and undeveloped northern islands, which are accessible only by private boat. Chartering with San Juan Sailing out of Bellingham made the most sense—economically and geographically—for exploring these islands’ old-growth forests, fossil-filled cliffs and moss-lined hiking trails.

A few hours later, I was at the helm as we scouted anchoring options off Cypress Island. We dropped the hook in a deserted nook around the corner from Eagle Harbor, where two-dozen boats were already moored. Just after we secured a stern line around a tree onshore to keep us from pivoting with the notoriously strong tidal currents, our friends Mark and Katie and their 4-year-old son sailed into sight. Bellingham locals, they’d decided to buddy-boat with us for the weekend in their 25-foot Bayfield, Madrona. They nestled in enviously close to shore with a 3-foot shoal draft.

Rob lowered the 15-horsepower outboard onto Illumine’s ­dinghy so we could visit Cone Islands State Park, a quartet of tiny isles a few hundred yards away. One of our family’s favorite parts of cruising is joyriding around in the dinghy to explore. Katie and Mark, on the other hand, adore traveling without engines and opted for muscle power to row their wooden dinghy across to meet us.

The kids and dads poked at anemones in the tide pools while Katie and I basked in the sun like sea lions, happy to have the finger cove to ourselves.

“Should we skinny-dip?” I asked her, half-joking. But I should have known the answer: Katie and I had sailed together on a half-dozen sailboats in just as many countries, and she was always game for adventure.

“Heck yeah!” Katie said with a grin, shucking off her jeans and T-shirt. We splashed into the cold Pacific, our happy hoots bringing the children running.

The next morning, we set out for a hike on Cypress Island. Armed with copious snacks and a couple of field guides, we meandered through salal bushes and madrona trees, stepping over dozens of slugs as we climbed to the top of Eagle Cliff. The kids built rock cairns and ate peanut-butter sandwiches while the adults took in the sweeping views of Rosario Strait 750 feet below us. The white wakes of ferries and yachts looked like icing on a blue cake.

During a shared dinner of sausage ravioli that night in Illumine’s cockpit, we perused the charts with our friends. We decided to head for Clark Island—a 55-acre marine park with a long sandy beach—right after breakfast the next morning and crossed our fingers that one of the nine mooring buoys would be open if we arrived early.

We were in luck. After a two-hour sail in light winds (and only one terrifying moment when a freighter steaming at 14 knots turned toward us in the strait), Illumine and Madrona both picked up balls as two other boats were leaving. Talon and Lyra were so excited to see the new island that they climbed into the dinghy immediately, shoes in hand.

“Beaches make the best playgrounds,” Talon told us. “So hurry up, OK?”

The west side of Clark Island did not disappoint—its half-mile crescent of white sand felt like we were in California rather than a stone’s throw from Canada. The kids wrestled and rolled on the beach, built complicated castles, and chased garter snakes under driftwood piles. The adults cataloged the birds, took turns splashing into the water, and watched an otter eat several fish in the shallows. That evening, we headed back to the beach for a bonfire. The sunset painted the sea pink as we polished off our fire-roasted hot dogs and corn on the cob.

Madrona returned to Bellingham the next morning while we continued northwest. The wind was on our nose again (which Katie and Mark had informed us was the norm around Bellingham, no matter which direction you chose to sail). After two hours, Sucia Island’s Echo Bay came into view, a popular anchorage because of its splendid views of Mount Baker, the towering snow-covered volcano that dominates the skyline. I counted close to 70 boats packed into the U-shaped bay.

Put off by the crowds, we tucked around Matia Island instead. Back at the docks, Mike Houston had told us that it would be “highly unlikely” we’d be able to snag one of the two mooring buoys or few dock spaces in Matia’s Rolfe Cove, but to “definitely try because the island is spectacular.” Part of the San Juan Islands National Wildlife Refuge, Matia is home to one of the last intact old-growth forests in the San Juans.

We were thrilled to find both balls available—until we realized they were vacant because the swell coming into the cove was nauseating. The forecast showed the wind clocking south in the evening and calming considerably. So we hurriedly packed for a hike, fingers crossed that the boat would feel less like a roller coaster upon our return.

The 1-mile trail around the island felt like a fairy land. We wandered in awe through waist-high ferns, watching eagles and great blue herons dive into the green water beyond the forest. Sunlight filtered through the lacy needles of ancient cedars and dappled the kids’ blond hair.

“You have to do the limbo to look up at these trees,” our son said, arched over backward. He and his sister ran to a burn-scarred cedar, its trunk wider than a pickup, then stood together in the hollow V at its base. “Mom, we could practically live in here!”

Back on the boat, the swell had receded. I started dinner while Rob gave in to the kids’ pleas and took them back to shore to play with an inflatable beach ball. Their giggles echoed across the cove as they chased each other across the pebbled beach.

I let the chicken-and-rice dish simmer on the gimbaled stove, then took my beer to the cockpit to enjoy the sunset and rare solitude. Illumine was framed by sandstone cliffs on both sides, their hollows reflected on the smooth water. These rocks harbor fossils, and I searched for the feathery imprints of palm trees from a bygone era.

I was grateful that we were flexible on our charter, letting wind and whim dictate our destinations. If we’d planned out each stop, we might have missed the magic of Matia or the sand playground on Clark. While I reviewed charts and my charter packet before we arrived in the San Juans, I hadn’t read a single cruising guide. For me, the beauty of cruising is the constant discovery: catching a wind line just around the point; seeing the wake of a whale and chasing its spout; watching a seal slide through a bay at night, trailing phosphorescent fireworks. I prefer the giddy excitement of not knowing exactly what we might find, rather than following well-trodden routes to “must-see” destinations.

The next morning, we motored over to Sucia Island, our sails no match for the swirling tidal rip currents in light wind. We side-stepped the busy scene in Echo Bay and instead found a mooring in Snoring Bay, a skinny inlet on the south shore. We settled Illumine between a small sloop from Portland and a tiny wooden tug with a dog barking on the bow.

We hiked Sucia’s network of trails most of the day, finding sea stars and rock climbing along the way. Before dinner, we took the dinghy across the wide expanse of Echo Bay. We surprised a pair of enormous Steller sea lions as we zipped around the ­northwestern point. They bellowed angrily at the intrusion, ­hefting their intimidating bulk off the rocks. Motoring away quickly to calm them down, we noticed a rock spit a half-mile away with dozens more of the blond mammals. Talon was thrilled, demanding that we watch (from a safe distance) as two massive males fought over a harem of lady lions.

We didn’t leave Sucia until late afternoon the following day, eking out the last bit of sun and cedar from our vacation. San Juan Sailing had requested that we anchor close to Bellingham Bay on the last night so we could be back at the dock by 10 a.m. without risking navigating the soupy fog that often blankets Rosario Strait. We motorsailed toward Inati Bay on Lummi Island, which Mike Houston had recommended, “as long as you don’t mind the rigmarole of setting a stern tie.”

The sun had just slipped over the horizon as we pulled into Inati, a narrow hook into Lummi’s steep, verdant hillside. Four boats had already set anchor, three of them with stern ties. Only one slot was still open for anchoring—a little close to the rocks for my normal comfort level but plenty safe if we tied to shore. Rob and I set the anchor seamlessly, proud of our teamwork…but then promptly flubbed our success when Rob ejected his brand-new iPhone into the ocean as he stepped into the dinghy.

He stared incredulously down into the murky sea. The depth meter read 21 feet. The water temperature read 58 degrees. “I cannot believe I just did that,” he said.

I could tell he was itching to dive in after his phone, but with both kids bickering in the cockpit and Illumine swinging toward the rocks, I convinced him to set the stern line first. Once the boat was secured, Rob suited up in his spearfishing wetsuit in record time, happy he’d remembered to pack a dive light.

While I whipped up some dinner, Talon narrated his dad’s progress: “He just went down again. I think that’s his 10th dive!”

But he didn’t need to tell me when Rob found the phone. My husband’s “woo-hoo!” echoed loudly off the walls, eliciting applause from folks on neighboring boats who were on deck enjoying the twilight. And the phone (in a waterproof case) still worked.

Rob grinned under his neoprene mask. “It wouldn’t be as memorable if the whole week went smoothly, right?”

After ramen noodles all around and bedtime stories for the kids, Rob and I sat back in the cockpit with a beer. We reflected on our week in the San Juans and both agreed: The minor mishaps made the highlights that much brighter.

Brianna Randall is a writer based in Missoula, Montana. She and her family explore mountain lakes on a Catalina 22 during the summer, and escape the winter to live aboard a shared Jaguar 36 in the Bahamas.

Chartering Information

When to Go: The weather in the San Juan Islands is generally mild year-round. The sailing season is from May to October, when the winds are mostly moderate, from 6 to 18 knots. Summer temperatures are ­typically in the low to mid 70s.

Cruising Guides: Before you go, consider taking a look at: San Juan Islands: A Boater’s Guidebook; 2nd edition, by Shawn Breeding and Heather Bansmer, and Waggoner Cruising Guide 2021 by Fine Edge Publishing.

Charter Companies: A number of charter options exist in the region for bareboat and crewed, power and sail.

The post San Juan Islands Sojourn appeared first on Cruising World.

Recently I met with a client to review and critique his vessel’s systems. One item I saw related to the bonding or grounding system. These systems serve similar purposes: to carry stray, galvanic or fault current back to its source.

Let me clarify two related matters. First, electricity does not “seek ground” as so many dockside sages insist. No, whether from a battery or shore power, it seeks to return to its source. One example of the return-to-source concept is all-too-often tragic; it relates to electric-shock drowning, or in-water electrocution. When AC current, which originates from shore power, “leaks” into the water in which the vessel floats, it attempts to return to its origin, which in most cases is a transformer located on the dock or in the marina parking lot. Once power passes through a transformer, that transformer becomes a power source. So if a shore-power transformer is installed aboard a vessel, fault current will seek to return to that transformer—rather than through the water—and on to the one supplying the marina, making it a safer option.

RELATED: The Dos and Don’ts of Boat Wiring

Second, while the terms are frequently and understandably used interchangeably, “bonding” is often used in conjunction with underwater metals and corrosion prevention, while “grounding” often refers to the connection of equipment chassis and hardware to the DC-negative terminal. The two systems are, however, almost always connected (along with the AC safety and lightning ground systems), so for the purposes of this discussion, they are one in the same.

In the case of my client’s boat, I noticed a 14-gauge wire connected to the engine block. It appeared rather new, and when I asked about it, the owner confirmed that an electrician had installed it in the not-too-distant past. A poor block ground can cause oil-pressure and coolant-temperature-gauge issues, which may have been the impetus for adding it. While this “fix” may have solved one problem, it created a fire risk.

Another electrical myth is “electricity takes the path of least resistance.” In fact, electricity takes all paths, with the current flow being proportionate to the resistance. Thus, more current flows through lower-resistance, larger-wire paths; when both are present, larger wires carry more current than smaller wires. But what happens if the larger wire breaks, or is inadvertently disconnected, or the connection loosens or corrodes? In that case, a small-gauge wire connected to an engine block will be called upon to carry high current, such as from a starter or alternator.

A few years ago, I was inspecting the engine room on a 60-footer. A mechanic had recently replaced the batteries, then started the engine to test his work. However, when removing the old batteries, he’d dropped one cable behind a battery box and then failed to reconnect it when installing the new batteries. When he turned the key, instead of flowing through a cigar-size 2/0 cable, the starter current instead took an alternate path through a 12-gauge bonding wire connected to the engine block. A few feet away, I recall feeling the heat on my face as it almost instantly glowed white-hot, and the insulation melted and then burned away. Fortunately, the wire melted before anything caught fire.

It doesn’t take a miss-wire scenario for an event like this to occur. If the starter’s or alternator’s positive cable chafes against the engine block (ABYC standards prohibit starter positive cables from touching the block in any way), current will attempt to return to the battery via all paths, including small bonding wires.

The simple moral? Every grounding/bonding wire connected to the block of an engine or generator, or to any other piece of DC equipment, must be capable of carrying full starting or fault/short-­circuit current, which means it can be no less than one size smaller than the largest DC-positive cable. Furthermore, bonding wires should not be connected to current-carrying parts. If the chassis of the block, thruster, etc., is common with the DC-negative, then it should not be bonded. Engine blocks and gensets that utilize isolated ground starters and alternators may, on the other hand, be bonded.

Steve D’Antonio offers services for boat owners and buyers through Steve D’Antonio Marine Consulting.

The post Sailboat Grounding Systems appeared first on Cruising World.

Forty years ago, David M. Stainton presented us with that indefinable but unmistakable thing: a good boat. Clarity, our 33-foot cutter, has since shown us thousands of miles of the world’s waters, from Maine to Trinidad, from Connecticut to Scotland to Turkey, adventures that were chronicled in more than 20 years of articles in this magazine.

David had drawn up the plans as a design exercise years before I signed the construction contract. His brief to himself: a comfortable, fast and traditional-looking vessel fit to go anywhere in any weather. On my first glance at the drawings, I fell in love. He created her over the span of two years in a building behind the brick farmhouse in Williston, Vermont, where he lived with his wife, Barbara, and daughter, Lilo. Construction was supposed to take one year, so when we moved into the second, Barbara served as shuttle diplomat between unhurried David and increasingly impatient me.

I should have calmed down.

During that second year, I met Brian Forsyth, who is with me still. Meanwhile, David was making something that would cement the mutual love of sailing that we discovered upon first meeting, which would be a sustaining thread of our lives together. She was launched in August 1980. Lilo bobbled the champagne bottle, Brian instantly dived into the harbor to retrieve it, and she nailed it on the second bash.

From our first year aboard, spent cruising to and through the Caribbean—Clarity was our first home together—we learned how sturdy, comfy and able she was, starting with her seeing us through a three-day storm at sea on our first offshore passage. We felt trust building inside us. We learned how to run her together smoothly, to kedge her off Chesapeake mud, to row out a second anchor, to take a wee-hour reef. She had an uncanny, purposeful rightness in her every inch and mile covered. In 1988, we sailed across the Atlantic to Scotland. Once again, we were slammed by a three-day storm, this one some 375 nautical miles off Ireland, with 90-mile-an-hour winds and 30-foot waves. As always, she shrugged it off. I was less blasé. Ever since then, we have kept her in Europe, taking a summer cruise each year and storing her on the hard wherever we end up, with no plans of sailing her back. We were younger then.

Halfway through our 17 years in the south of France and nearby waters, the annual return to favorite anchorages stopped generating new articles for Cruising World, but we have continued to savor the sensual life afloat, and have even gradually given ground on our original purist ways, allowing cushy things aboard such as an electric anchor windlass, roller furling, a fridge and GPS. We still use foot pumps for the sinks and still row the dinghy.

Something else happened during those later years in France, something that landed Clarity with a quirky amenity. Ever since we arrived in Europe, we’d been leaving the ship’s US document with the authorities each winter, retrieving it the following summer. We had become aware that the newly coalescing European Union had set a limit of 18 months on non-EU-flagged vessels sailing in EU waters, but even so, year after year, picking up the document went off without a hitch.

We began to dare to hope that we had arrived early enough in the EU process to excuse us from that limitation.

But one February day back in Connecticut, we received a letter from French Customs, forwarded by our French boatyard, saying that we must remove the vessel from the EU immediately. I called the boatyard manager, who was furious that they would make such a demand in the middle of the winter. She called the local customs office and gave them a good piece of her mind, and they relented, saying we could deal with the situation the following summer.

Six months later, I arrived in France with a sheaf of every contract, drawing and artifact of red tape I could find relevant to Clarity’s history. During a stressful week, I fired up my bureaucratic French and managed to import Clarity into the EU, paying the VAT (value-added tax) on her value, and receiving at the end a passeport du navire etranger. This foreign-vessel passport allows Clarity to remain in the EU indefinitely while keeping her US flag, and it transfers with ownership of the boat. I wrote about this process for the benefit of stateside readers, but to this day, we hardly ever see US-flagged boats in the Med.

In 2008, we sailed the thousand miles from France to Croatia, and we have been reveling in that sailor’s paradise ever since. Clarity spends the winters in a boatyard in Monfalcone, Italy, near Trieste, from which Croatian waters are just a few hours’ sail away.

Meanwhile, back in Connecticut, in the years after the 1988 trans-Atlantic voyage, we moved to a salt-water-front home with an empty dock and a nearby archipelago of pink granite islands called the Thimbles, ripe for sunset outings. We hunted around and found, in Belfast, Maine, a lovely 1958 21-foot picnic boat. Urchin not only filled the bill, but she also quickly became a beloved neighborhood accessory. If I were behind on the spring task list, working on her in the driveway, strollers would stop and scold me: “When’s she going in? It’s not summer till she’s at your dock.” Burbling down the harbor, she just seemed to make people smile.

Two years ago, that task list had gotten a bit ahead of us. Decay was riddling the mahogany cabin structure faster than I could drill holes and inject epoxy. The pre-launch work stretched on: more epoxy and coats of varnish, freshly painted topsides and boot top. For the first time, we went to Croatia for our summer cruise aboard Clarity with Urchin still on the trailer in the driveway. When we got back, it seemed urgent to get her launched. But there was just one last task: How might we address that saggy bit of the cockpit sole?

We were feeling around underneath when we chanced to poke the engine-bed timbers, and the finger went into the wood a couple of knuckles—peat moss. We looked at each other. It was time. I felt strangely relieved. She had not been made with a 60-year life span in mind; the half-round trim on the cabin was attached with copper boat nails. Still, it had been bothering me more and more to see her losing ground under our care. We didn’t have the skills to truly bring her back, and paying to have her restored would be way beyond our means. We needed to find people with the ability and enthusiasm to give her a next chapter.

A house just down the harbor from us had recently changed hands after lingering on the market for years. The features it offered—a marine railway leading to a huge boat shed—needed just the right buyer, and had finally found one. I walked down the street and knocked—a cold call. A woman answered, her expression suggesting she feared that I might be promoting an unwelcome cause. I introduced myself and told her we proposed a gift of Urchin, no strings attached.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” she said. “There are only three boats on this harbor that we love, and Urchin is one of them.” Jan told her husband, Joe, when he got home, and the next day they came over, climbed inside and out, over and under, and Joe said, “We gotta do this!” Turns out, Joe fabricates custom marine metalwork and is an amateur boatbuilder. The day after that, they came and hauled her away. That went well, but once again we had an empty dock.

When David finished building Clarity in 1980, his plans changed. He had thought of the boat, the first he had ever designed and built from scratch, as a prototype, to be followed by other semicustom examples. But the extra year of building had taken a toll on the family finances. Starting on another was not feasible. At the same time, he had been bitten by the boatbuilding bug. He and the family moved to Maine, where they bought Cranberry Island Boatyard, just off Northeast Harbor. There, David built a number of different boats, both sail and power, though the bulk of the business consisted of caring for the boats of the summer people, including some fine Herreshoff daysailers and other vessels of excellent pedigree.

After a few years, he felt he needed another revenue thread to keep the yard crew busy during the winters. He designed a 19-foot motorboat, dubbed the Western Way 19 after the channel between Cranberry Island and Mount Desert Island, and built a strip-planked, glassed-over prototype. It turned out to be a sweetie—a timeless spring in the sheer; a swift, soft, sure-footed ride in steep bay chop—that has become sort of a cult design, earning a waiting list of orders over the horizon for the rest of his life. The prototype, which no one had gotten around to naming, generated the mold for all the subsequent boats, and then became the yard launch and demo boat for potential WW19 buyers. After David died, Barb named it David M in his memory. Barb continued to run the yard for several more years, then sold it to a longtime employee who had his own workboat, at which point David M ended up unused in a boat shed at the yard for the last several years.

As we thought about what next boat to chase for our dock, the idea of a Western Way 19 naturally bobbed to the top of the list. David had taken me for a memorable spin years earlier on a visit to the island. We tried to find a used one online, but people just don’t let go of them. Commissioning a new one from the new yard owner was out of our reach. I asked Barb for leads, none of which panned out. Finally she said, “Well, it’s clear you guys need a boat for your dock.” A couple of days later, after checking with Lilo, Barb offered to lend us David M “for at least five years”…at no charge.

The Western Way 19 was offered in four models, all based on the prototype’s hull design: Bass Boat, Lobster Boat, Center Console, and Classic Launch. David M was the only Classic version ever built.

So, at the beginning of my serious cruising life, I acquired a one-off boat, designed and built by David M. Stainton, and now, 40 years later, we have another one-off from his pen, built by his hands, bookending our boating lives. Both boats share that rightness that feels so perfect under us and that harvests so many thumbs-up.

There’s a particular recurring ­experience that Clarity has given me over the years, a leitmotif in my daydreams of her. Here’s one way it can go:

There’s a famously bumpy run in Croatian waters called Kvarner Gulf, between the island of Unije and the mainland Istrian peninsula. In hopes of crossing it in a calm, I rise in the pre-dawn darkness and whisper a warning to Brian and friend Neil, my core crew: “Starting the engine.” I sneak down the anchorage, perhaps to a wave from a fellow early riser, and start along the austere, Bora-sculpted shore of Unije. As we round the last point into the open water, with 20 miles to go to the tip of Istria, the sun has still not peeked over Losinj, the mountainous island to the east. We slide along with some swell that keeps me alert, scanning for the dark water of wind. Finally, the first sunbeam warms my back and begins to dry the dew off the deck. Three hours out, when the crew would normally be taking the first morning dive overboard, we’re already 15 miles safely on our way. Clarity and I have given a small gift to Brian and Neil, and whoever else is just coming to, down below—more than 70 friends have sailed with us in Europe. Orange juice appears, along with the smell of coffee. Another day.

David M has done me that same favor, has brought me into a fine new day, late in my boating life.

We have begun to reckon with the looming need to let go of our beloved Clarity, so staunch and proud after all these years and miles. We are still just scratching the surface of all the coves and islands of the Croatian coast, but we are in our 70s and, as much as we continue to cherish every minute aboard, we recognize that we must put safety first so we can look back with only fond, unclouded memories of our times with her. We hope we can find a sailor who sparks to the qualities of beauty, ability and integrity that David M. Stainton imbued her with, a sailor who dreams of endless cruising in Europe. She’s ready for 40 more years. Meanwhile, David M bobs at our dock, ready for the next sunsetter.

After his studies at Juilliard, William Storandt spent several years in New York as a freelance percussionist before spending over a decade in Vermont, capped off by Clarity’s launching in Lake Champlain in 1980. After a year’s cruise together to the islands, Storandt and Brian Forsyth moved to Connecticut, where Storandt taught writing at Yale for 25 years before recently retiring. His 2001 book Outbound: Finding a Man, Sailing an Ocean, recounts their 1988 voyage to Scotland. Inquiries about the sale of Clarity may be directed to Storandt via email.

The post Bookends appeared first on Cruising World.

Monohull or catamaran? Three cabins or five? Two heads or four? Flybridge or raised helm? Comfort or price? Just as there’s no one perfect ­charter destination, it’s impossible to say what the best boat is for a sailing vacation. For those who hate making decisions, that’s the bad news. But for those who like options, the good news is you have a lot of choices as you plan how to make your escape.

To get an idea of what ­constitutes a good charter boat, I reached out to 10 of the largest ­production ­boatbuilders and asked which ­current model is most often sold to charter fleets around the world. Not surprisingly, all but one of those popular charter boats are in the mid-40-foot range, and available with three to four—and in a couple of instances, five or even six—cabins.

Why 40-something feet? Boats in that size range are big enough to accommodate multiple couples or large families but are manageable for an average sailor who may or may not have experienced crew to help with boat handling. Expense is a factor too. The bigger the boat, the more it’s going to cost to rent, but the number of cabins (and ability to split costs among guests) might not increase accordingly. And, ­bigger boats are more challenging to handle, which means unless you own a 50-something footer, or have chartered a boat previously in that size range, you might face the added ­expense of having to hire a captain, at the outset of the trip at least.

Franck Bauguil is vice president of yacht ownership and product ­development for the Moorings and Sunsail. Both brands are owned by Travelopia, which buys essentially all of its catamarans from Robertson & Caine in South Africa. Travelopia is, in turn, R&C’s only customer, so all of the cats it builds are optimized for charter by Bauguil and designers at Simonis Voogd Design (privately owned R&C cats are sold under Travelopia’s Leopard brand).

When it comes to monohulls, though, both the Moorings and Sunsail buy select models from Beneteau and Jeanneau. For bases in the Mediterranean, monohulls tend to dominate the fleets, partly because of sailing preferences and partly because in crowded harbors, there isn’t room to tie big cats stern to at the quay. For those fleets, Bauguil says he prefers boats that have as many cabins as possible because Europeans tend to squeeze as many aboard as possible to reduce costs. That means four cabins and two heads are ideal in the mid-40-foot range.

Across the Caribbean, where North American customers tend to flock, he leans toward a mix of boats, including layouts with three cabins and two heads. Americans, he says, are more concerned about comfort and amenities.

Sailing conditions also factor in. At bases where the trade winds tend to blow harder and ­passages between islands are longer and more exposed, such as in St. Lucia and the Windward Islands, larger ­monohulls (and cats) dominate.

Other charter companies have more-diverse fleets. The Catamaran Company, for instance, offers a number of different brands of cats at its base in Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands. Owner Hugh Murray says different customers come looking for boats with a variety of features. One of his workhorses is the Lagoon 450. Customers like the flybridge for entertaining and relaxing, and with four guest cabins, plus two more bunks in the forepeaks, the 450 can accommodate up to 10 guests.

Others prefer the Fountaine Pajot catamarans that he manages in his fleet. Charterers like the raised helm, so a skipper can communicate with people sitting in the lounge atop the Bimini, or in the cockpit below.

“Then you have Bali, which takes the saloon and puts it in the cockpit; it’s like a cabana,” Murray says of that brand’s open, airy layout.

Cindy Kalow, owner of ­Superior Charters in Bayfield, Wisconsin, ­also manages a diverse fleet of ­older and newer boats, including a ­couple of Lagoon catamarans. Alongside her 30-boat charter fleet, she ­also runs a sailing school, and is the ­area’s Jeanneau and Lagoon dealer.

When customers ask her what’s the best boat to buy to put into charter, she tells them, “It’s the boat that makes you happy when you walk down the dock.”

People plan out a sailing vacation for any number of reasons. For some, it’s the destination; for others, it’s a chance to sail in a regatta in a tropical location; or a new-boat shopper might want to try out a particular model for a week or two before they buy. Chances are, if you have a particular kind, brand or model of boat you’re interested in, if you shop around, you’re bound to find it for charter.

What follows is a brief look at those 10 bestsellers ­mentioned in the beginning.

Bali Catspace Sail

Several years ago, longtime French performance-catamaran builder Chantier Catana jumped into the charter game with its Bali line of fixed-keel, roomy cruising cats. The most recent addition to that lineup, and reportedly the boat most often chosen when charter companies go shopping, is the 40-foot Bali Catspace Sail (a motor version is also available).

Like its larger siblings, the Catspace has a range of features designed for a crew of friends headed for tropical climes looking for sun, fun and rum, all mixed with a healthy dose of trade-wind sailing.

Designed by Olivier Poncin, the Catspace sports the Bali trademark garage-style saloon door that slides up and out of the way, opening up the cockpit and interior into one large, shaded living and entertaining space. A helm station is located one floor up, along with a padded lounge area that shares a portion of the cabin top aft of the mast and the cockpit Bimini.

Forward of the cabin, instead of trampolines, a solid fiberglass bridge deck spans the hulls to make room for yet another cushioned area in which to hang out. An added bonus of the solid foredeck is the lack of spray when underway.

Under sail, a self-tacking jib keeps the work simple for the day’s designated skipper, meaning the rest of the crew can kick back and enjoy the ride.

Depending on the ­charter program, the boat may be available in either a three- or four-cabin layout, and equipped with a range of kit that includes electric winches, a sprit and off-wind sail, watermaker, microwave, and an impressively sized fridge and freezer.

Bavaria C45

Charterers bound for vacations aboard a monohull in Europe and certain parts of the Caribbean are likely to encounter the latest generation of Bavaria Yachts, which are built in Germany and drawn and styled by the team at ­Cossutti Yacht design in Italy.

I got to visit one of the ­latest models, the C45, at its introduction during the 2018 boat show in Dusseldorf, and my immediate ­impression was that it would make a good home away from home with a few family members and friends. I’ve not yet had a chance to sail the ­45-footer, but I have thoroughly enjoyed a couple of afternoons out on the water aboard two other Cossutti-designed ­Bavarias. Both boats could click off the miles, and both were quite easy to sail shorthanded, thanks to a self-tacking jib and a double-ended mainsheet led to each of the twin wheels.

The cockpit area forward of the helms on the C45 includes benches to either side, each with its own table. This arrangement creates a clear path to the companionway and ­saloon down below.

At anchor, a large fold-down swim platform provides access to both the water and a ­dinghy garage. The transom is also home to a sink and grill for outdoor cooking.

Thanks to hull chines that create considerable interior volume, depending on your crew’s needs, the C45 is available with three, four and five cabins, so you can bring along the whole gang.

Beneteau 46.1

Beneteau first introduced the Oceanis 46.1 to North American sailors during the 2018 fall boat season, and it’s no surprise that it’s now the French builder’s most popular ­model sold to charter companies, especially in Europe, where monohulls remain in demand thanks to crowded harbors and the preference for tying stern to along a packed quay in many locations.

I got aboard the boat a couple of times that year, once in a new-model preview in Newport, Rhode Island, and again with CW’s Boat of the Year judges in Annapolis, Maryland. Both times I came away impressed by the boat’s performance and creature comforts.

The Pascal Conq-designed hull is slippery through the water and delivers lots of space below (more on that in a minute). In 10 knots of breeze, we cruised upwind at close to 8 knots flying the easy-to-handle 107 percent genoa; cracked off on a reef with the code zero unfurled, the speedo jumped well into the 9s.

Meanwhile, the deck ­layout and interior by Nauta were both conducive to chartering. The work of sailing takes place aft of the twin helms, where sheets and other control lines are close at hand for the skipper and crew who want to join the fun. Those who want to relax can enjoy cockpit seats that convert to sunbeds, with more lounge pads to either side of the companionway.

The 46.1 comes in layouts ranging from three cabins and two heads to five cabins, meaning you can escape for a romantic week as a couple, or bring along a crowd for a party.

Dufour 530 Grand Large

It’s easy to understand why the recently introduced ­Dufour 530 is already the company’s top seller for chartering. It’s a big, comfortable boat, ­loaded with options, and boy, does it sail.

For more than 15 years, ­Dufours have been designed by Umberto Felci, of Felci Yacht Design. The result is a range of boats which, as it scales up in size, maintains the same look and feel among all the models. With many charter fleets comprised of various-size ­Dufours, return skippers can feel ­encouraged to push their skill set by moving up from, say, the mid-40-footer they rented last time, and opting instead to step over the 50-foot threshold. And when they do, they will find that the 530′s self-tacking jib or slightly overlapping genoa is relatively easy to handle, while the rest of the boat has a familiar feel, right down to the layout of the saloon with its galley forward by the mast, and the grill and fold-down swim platform on the stern.

With a little more than 16 feet of beam, there’s lots of room for guests and belongings down below. Depending on the layout offered by the charter company, there can be anywhere from three to six cabins.

When sailing, that beamy hard-chined hull tends to keep the boat standing upright, ensuring nonsailing guests a comfortable ride. But the ­sailors aboard won’t be disappointed either. On a test sail this past fall, loping along at 8 knots in 10 knots of breeze, even though the Boat of the Year team was working, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

Fountaine Pajot Isla 40

Fountaine Pajot has packed a lot of versatility into the ­Berret-Racoupeau-designed Isla 40, the smallest boat in the builder’s seven-model range of cruising catamarans.

At 40 feet LOA, the Isla is available in both a three- and four-cabin layout, ­depending on the charter program, and can include crew quarters in the bows, making it also ­suitable for a crewed charter.

The size of the cat, its ­sailing ability and its ­creature comforts are no doubt the ­reasons for its appeal to ­charterers. Laid out with four cabins with en suite heads, the Isla can carry a crowd, but its size also makes it easily ­handled by a skipper and shorthanded crew, or even a couple off on a holiday.

The Isla’s helm station is ­located on the starboard ­bulkhead, and it’s ­accessible from both the cockpit ­below and the side deck. This keeps the driver in contact with those lounging under the ­Bimini, but it also provides ­excellent access forward, if needed. All sail control lines are led to winches close at hand on the cabin top.

A well-equipped galley is just inside the saloon door, so meals can easily be passed to guests seated at the large outdoor table. Inside, a U-shaped couch forward surrounds a second, smaller table. Large windows surround the cabin, ­providing excellent 360-degree views. Meanwhile, ports in either hull allow light to pour into the sleeping cabins below. All in all, the Isla offers big-cat luxury at a smaller-boat price.

Hanse 458

If your sailing vacation plans include a Caribbean or European destination, a Hanse 458 could very well be one of the monohull sailboats available in the bareboat fleet. Designed by Judel/Vrolijk and built in Germany, the 458 is available with either three or four cabins, the latter likely being the preferred layout for the charter crowd.

As with its larger and smaller siblings, the 458 features a self-tacking jib, which simplifies maneuvering under sail. Tacking requires just a turn of the wheel, while a double-ended German-style mainsheet, led to a winch at each wheel, means that you have control of the main at all times, especially when jibing. Simple sailing doesn’t mean a lack of performance though. Hanse hulls are slippery, and the boat comes standard with a full-batten main that keeps the 458 moving well in light air. The main is easily put away in a boom pouch at the end of the day.

All the sailing is done aft of the twin wheels. ­Forward of them, guests can enjoy the generously sized L-shaped cockpit seats that sit to ­either side of a large ­table, ­complete with a built-in ­cooler. At ­anchor, a large swim ­platform provides easy ­access to the ­water, dinghy or, if ­Med-moored, the quay. And a clean uncluttered deck means there’s plenty of space to ­sunbathe forward of the mast.

Down below, the 458 is open and airy, with a minimalist ­interior that includes a well-stocked galley and a spacious dining area in the saloon.

Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 440

Sometimes a charter trip means you get to discover a new location; other times, it’s a chance to experience a whole new concept in boat design. Depending on your ­destination, the Jeanneau Sun Odyssey 440 is capable of ­delivering on both counts.

With the 440, Jeanneau, along with designers Phillippe Briand and Jean-Marc Piaton, introduced the proprietary Walk Around Decks concept, an idea that garnered multiple awards, including CW’s Most Innovative prize in the 2018 Boat of the Year contest.

With hard chines and beam carried well aft, the builder was able to reallocate ­interior space to include two full-size aft cabins and, topsides, side decks that slope down to meet the cockpit floor. From ­either of the twin wheels, captain and crew need only step outboard and saunter forward rather than having to climb over cockpit coamings to reach the side decks.

At anchor, the aforementioned cockpit coamings are hinged and can be folded out to create two huge sunbathing beds for the crew. Down below, meanwhile, layouts ­include a three-cabin version, with a large berth forward, or two forward cabins, both with double berths.

Under sail, the 440 performs well. The hull is slippery, and the anchor roller doubles as a tack-down point if off-wind sails are available; twin rudders provide plenty of control as conditions get sporty. In port, the roomy interior is bright and well-equipped for relaxing and entertaining around a large dining table surrounded by a U-shaped couch and ­centerline bench.

Lagoon 42

Various models of Lagoon Catamarans are found in charter fleets around the world, but the company says that the Lagoon 42, launched in 2016 and named Best Full-Size Catamaran Under 50 Feet in CW’s 2017 Boat of the Year contest, is the top-selling model, probably for a number of reasons.

First, the boat’s price and size make it an affordable option for vacationers because they can take along as ­many guests as they might on a ­larger, more expensive model. As with most cats in this size range, the 42 is available in either a three- or four-cabin layout. In either case, ports in the hull let lots of light into the cabins, and opening hatches provide good ventilation.

And then there is the sail plan. Lagoon and the designers at VPLP have in recent years favored masts set farther aft, with high-aspect mainsails and larger headsails, which on the 42 includes a self-tacking jib and, if supplied by the ­charter company, a code zero or other off-wind sail.

On a sailing vacation, often the crew includes kids or friends with varying degrees of sailing experience. At 42 feet, this model is still relatively easy for a skipper to handle, even if everyone else decides to kick back and enjoy the ride. The helm is semiraised, so a driver sits looking out over the cabin top ahead and the Bimini behind. This provides good sightlines and ­also keeps the skipper in touch with the crew. All sail control lines, meanwhile, are led to clutches and a pair of winches within arm’s reach of the wheel, which is right where they should be.

Moorings 4500/Sunsail 454

Owned by the same parent company, the Moorings and Sunsail spec out and buy more charter catamarans than anyone in the world, and with the feedback that they get from customers, they have a pretty good idea of what people are looking for in a sailing vacation. So, there’s little wonder that the 45-footer built by Robinson and Caine and sold into charter as the Moorings 4500 and Sunsail 454 won the title of Best Charter Catamaran when CW’s Boat of the Year judges were handing out awards in 2017.

The popular midsize cat is also sold to private owners as the Leopard 45, and is available in either a three- or four-cabin layout. Both charter brands opt for the latter, which provides for accommodations for up to 11 guests, thanks to a bunk forward of the double cabins in the port hull and a convertible berth for two in the saloon.

As with other models designed by Alex Simonis, the 45-footer features ­noteworthy views from multiple ports and cabin windows, as well as a ­watertight door that opens ­onto a forward, shaded cockpit. Anchored in the trade winds with both saloon doors open, the breeze keeps things cool, and sunrises and sunsets can be enjoyed while sitting at either end of the boat.

Underway, a square-top main and overlapping genoa ­provide plenty of horsepower, and there are multiple places on board for couple to find a private place to sit, or for the crew to gather to enjoy the ride.

Nautitech 46 Fly

Who doesn’t appreciate a rooftop balcony with a view, especially if that ­panorama consists of white sand ­beaches, palm trees waving in the trade winds, and gin-clear deep blue waters? Well, that’s exactly what you’ll get if you’re spending a week or two aboard a charter cat whose design ­includes a flybridge, say, for ­instance, the Nautitech 46 Fly.

Designed by Marc Lombard, the 46 comes in an open version, with the helm mounted on the cabin bulkhead, and the Fly, with essentially a third floor added atop the saloon and cockpit Bimini. From there, the skipper has a commanding 360-degree view while seated at the helm, and the crew can lounge around a table surrounded by padded seats and a sun lounge.

In other words, the ­flybridge adds the option of sailing and living ­completely alfresco if guests prefer to, or they can relax in the shade down below under the ­Bimini. And should a squall come through and rain on paradise, there’s the adjacent saloon with its aft-facing galley and additional couches to enjoy.

For charter, the 46 Fly comes in a four-cabin ­layout with en suite heads. A self-tacking jib and full-­batten main are standard. ­Depending on the charter company, the sail inventory ­also might ­include a code ­zero or ­other ­off-wind sail. Atop the flybridge, all sail control lines lead to the winches at the ­centerline helm, making shorthanded sailing quite possible if others aboard want to ­simply sit and enjoy the ride.

Mark Pillsbury is CW’s editor.

The post 10 Popular Charter Sailboats appeared first on Cruising World.

Uno!”

The now-familiar game-ending shout rang out from the cockpit, followed by the groan of the other players and the gloating of the victorious. I heard the cards reshuffle and another round begin. We were underway during a weeklong charter of the Florida Keys, and I was patting myself on the back for remembering to grab a few games and decks of cards before we left the dock. With sketchy cell service in the area, the kids—three teens and one preteen—had a sort-of forced break from their screens and made heavy use of the games, Uno in particular. To me, this was nothing short of magic, during a year that desperately needed some.

The idea of a shared charter between our family (myself; my husband, Green; and our daughters, Caitlin, 15, and Juliana, 11) and our close friends Giulia and William May (and their daughters, Marianna, 17, and Camilla, 15) came up a couple of years prior, but we were finally all able to make it happen in December 2020.

With travel restrictions and rising COVID-19 numbers pretty much everywhere this past winter, we needed a destination that would be easy to get to (our family was driving) and, well, open. Dream Yacht Charter’s new base in Key West, Florida, was a perfect fit, and a sort of return to some old stomping grounds.

Dream Yacht Charter opened its Key West base at the Stock Island Yacht Club & Marina in fall 2020. Domestic charter destinations received a huge boost due to COVID-related international travel restrictions, and Key West and the Florida Keys are about as tropical as you can get without leaving the continental US. To our crew, this sounded absolutely perfect.

Green and I grew up in Florida and lived for a while pre-kids on our boat in Key West. We haven’t been back often since, and this was the first time we’ve taken the girls there. They humored us, more or less, on our memory-lane trip down the Overseas Highway. Our friends beat us there, and we met up with William and Marianna at the marina pool waiting for our charter boat to be ready for us. Not wanting to waste a minute of time, Giulia and Camilla were already on a massive provisioning run.

“Should we have a teen side and an adult side? Or should each family get a hull?” These were the totally legitimate questions being floated by the kids as we climbed aboard and shared a welcome toast with our glasses of champagne. Our ride for the week was a Fountaine Pajot Astréa 42 named Asgard, and with four en suite cabins, it was a perfect fit. While each rooming plan had its merits, we ended up with a hull for each family, although Juliana typically slept in the main saloon. The well-appointed galley was Giulia’s domain (Italian through and through, she’s honestly one of the best cooks I know), and stowing the bounty she brought back from the store took some finesse. One thing was for sure: No one would starve this week.

On our first night away from the dock, we didn’t go all that far. Last-minute trips to stores for random forgotten items and another bottle or so of rum—just in case—took up a chunk of the morning, but once we pulled away, it felt great. We anchored off Archer Key, one of the small mangrove islands about 5 miles west of Key West, but it instantly felt a world away. The girls took no time at all getting in the water, while Green and William went exploring in the dinghy. Giulia and I enjoyed some prosecco while watching one of the Keys’ famous sunsets. The weight of 2020 that everyone had been carrying in some way evaporated, even if it was only for the week.

From the planning stages of this trip, the goal had always been to visit the Dry Tortugas. Even though I used to live in the Keys, I had never been, and the photos of Fort Jefferson looked so intriguing (It’s a big brick fort! In the middle of the water!) that we were all really excited to see it. Honestly, we thought it would be a given. Realistically, however, the Dry Tortugas is about 70 miles west of Key West. A haul, and depending on the weather, it could be lovely, or a complete no-go. And there’s the return trip to think about as well.

The distances involved and the time we had in which to do it all was definitely in the back of my mind. Green’s too, particularly when he checked the latest weather forecast. For the most part, December is a wonderful time to be in Key West, but cold fronts do come through and can mess up an otherwise well-planned week. Of course, one was coming, and we needed a more protected anchorage to sit it out. Our Day Two destination became Newfound Harbor, up the Keys a bit, between Ramrod Key and Little Torch Key. A conservative move, but we were on vacation and didn’t want an uncomfortable night at anchor. And fortunately, we left our first anchorage early enough to give us time for a stop at the reef.

The Keys are protected by the Florida Reef, the third-largest coral barrier-reef system in the world. It extends nearly 350 miles from St. Lucie to the Dry Tortugas and in depths ranging from 15 to 35 feet. A highlight of any trip to the Keys includes diving or snorkeling at any one of the reef sites. The Florida Keys National Marine Sanctuary maintains almost 500 free moorings along the reef for visiting mariners on a first-come, first-served basis, and we were able to grab one not too far from Key West for our snorkel adventure.

“The fish are nibbling my toes!” Camilla squealed as she swam in the turquoise water of the Sand Key reef, southwest of Key West. The rest of us geared up with our snorkel stuff and jumped in. The fish, used to plenty of day-trippers from the snorkel boats, were indeed friendly. At 30 feet or so, the reef is very accessible to snorkelers and divers alike. The water felt refreshing, and there was even a turtle sighting. Back aboard, it was time for lunch and a drink before heading to our anchorage ahead of the front. William, an eager fisherman, got the lines ready to troll behind the boat for the roughly 25-mile trip. The Keys is a world-class fishing destination, and visions of mahimahi whet everyone’s appetites.

To try for the Dry Tortugas—or not. Green called a crew meeting to discuss our plan. Depending on how strong the front was, and how sloppy the seas were, the trip to the Dry Tortugas could be, well, uncomfortable, and several of our crew tend to get seasick. If conditions weren’t right, we could run out of time waiting for an appropriate window to make it there and back. If this were the case, he said, we should come up with a plan B. The thought of not going to the Dry Tortugas and checking out Fort Jefferson was disappointing, to be sure, but the thought of anyone being miserable was bad too. So we sketched out an alternative: Sail up the Keys and check out all the dive spots, have a beach day at Bahia Honda State Park, and maybe spend time in Key West at the end, with lots of sailing, relaxing, good food and Uno games to pass the time. No stress. Not a bad plan, really.

The front came though that evening, and our protected anchorage did its job of keeping everyone comfortable. Swimming at the reef plus a good sail meant that we slept well. The next morning, the sun was shining and the crew was eager to get underway. But where to? We took another look at the weather and decided that, as long as everyone was on board, so to speak, we could make a go of the Dry Tortugas. The plan now was to head back down to Key West, splurge on a slip at Key West Bight Marina, and then, assuming the weather was still favorable, be off the dock by 0700 the next morning.

With the post-frontal wind now a bit northerly, we had a nice, if chilly, reach back to Key West. None of the kids had been there before, so we decided to check out downtown. Due to peaking COVID numbers pretty much everywhere in December 2020, we all decided to play it as safe as we could, and skipped the many bars and restaurants dotting Duval Street. Not to worry—Key West is crazy enough, even if you’re just out for a stroll. The Cuban music, Christmas lights, and even a bike parade with dozens of people dressed in Santa’s finery all added to the town’s festive feel. We hit a few obligatory souvenir shops, and once the kids started asking to stop at the henna tattoo booth, we decided it was time to head back to the boat. Dinner was burgers on the grill, and Giulia introduced us to a version of a mojito cocktail that replaces the soda water with lager-style beer. And dare I say, it was pretty good.

The sun wasn’t quite up as Green, William and Marianna got the boat ready to head out while I settled up the dockage bill and bought some ice for the cooler. The weather report looked good—our sail there would likely be bumpy, but our return trip in two days should be smooth sailing. It was definitely sweatshirt weather, but at least the sky was clear. We motored out of the marina, and once in open water, put up the sails. Next stop: Dry Tortugas National Park!

Our ETA was about 1530, and conditions were a bit sporty. Much of the run between Key West and the Dry Tortugas is in relatively shallow water, which can kick up waves. Juliana—who, despite growing up on a sailboat, still has a tough time at sea—slept most of the day. Caitlin and Marianna took turns at the helm for a while, while William remained hopeful that his fishing lines would produce a tasty dinner. After a while, the kids retreated to the saloon for some rounds of Uno while glancing at their phones as the cell signal faded away.

The Dry Tortugas might be only 70 miles away, but it really feels out there. Not often on a charter vacation do you have the opportunity to sail out of sight of land, so this journey really felt like an adventure. There are a number of shoals (some are marked) and wrecks of various depths on the chart, so a keen watch was necessary. Asgard handled herself well, and I found myself really appreciating the ergonomics of the boat—everywhere I sat was comfortable, and handholds were always in just the right places. It occurred to me on this leg of the trip why I hadn’t actually ever been to these islands before, despite having lived on a boat in Key West. Green and I had lived aboard a 32-foot Pearson Vanguard at the time, and unless the winds and seas were perfect, it would have been a long slog of a trip. The timing just never had been right.

“Fish on!” William shouted, and from the trouble he was having reeling in the line, we all thought it could be a big one. With fingers crossed for a mahi, he instead landed a false albacore/bonito. False albacore can be a tricky fish to prepare, and since none of us had had success with it before, we tossed it back. Ah well… there were more fish in the sea, right?

I had taken a break from the sun and had been reading in my cabin for a little bit, and when I came back up, Green directed me to the horizon. Rising out of the bright cerulean water was a brick-red fort. It seemed so out of place, like it had been magically placed there. We had finally made it to Fort Jefferson and Dry Tortugas National Park.

While a seemingly unlikely place for a massive fort, the location of the Dry Tortugas served as a strategic advance post for ships patrolling the Gulf of Mexico and Florida Strait in the mid-1800s. Comprised of more than 16 million bricks, it’s the largest masonry structure in the Western Hemisphere. Pondering the logistics of building it is mind-blowing. Construction of the fort lasted for 30 years, from 1846 to 1875, though it was never actually finished; construction eventually ended with the Civil War, when the fort was used as a Union prison. The most famous (infamous?) prisoner there was Dr. Samuel Mudd, who was convicted of conspiracy in the assassination of President Lincoln and had set the broken leg of John Wilkes Booth, Lincoln’s assassin.

There are extensive reefs surrounding the islands of the park, so to get to the main anchorage on the southeast side of the fort, you need to basically do a wide circle around the island. We happily dropped the hook at about 1530, and decided to immediately go check out the fort. It was nothing short of impressive. We chatted with one of the park rangers stationed there and took a self-guided tour. Since it was late in the day, we nearly had the fort to ourselves. Day-trippers come over by ferry and seaplane, so once they leave, it’s just the campers who are staying at the primitive campground adjacent to the fort, and the cruisers. The late-afternoon light was gorgeous, and we all enjoyed stretching our legs as we walked under the multitude of brick arches and explored each level of the fort.

Back at the boat, the girls brought out the Scrabble board and invented some creative takes on the game. Asgard was pretty tricked out, so after dinner we connected our phones and cameras to the boat’s TV and played slideshows of all the photos we had all taken so far. Choosing a “photo of the day” was difficult. With the Dry Tortugas’ remote location comes a feeling of really getting away from it all, which is amplified when you take a look at the night sky—the stars there are incredible.

There is more to the Dry Tortugas than Fort Jefferson (which is technically on Garden Key), so the next day, we sailed over to Loggerhead Key, which is notable because of its beautiful lighthouse. Due to the reefs, no sailing between the islands is direct, and our journey to the west side of Loggerhead took most of the morning. There is one day-use mooring buoy here, and we were lucky to snag it. The angle of the sun, however, was less than ideal for getting to the mooring, which is situated among numerous coral heads. After a nail-biting 15 minutes on approach and a few close calls, we were secured and eager to get in the water. I had rented two inflatable stand-up paddleboards from Dream for the week, and we finally got to use them. Everyone had a blast ­swimming, checking out the coral heads near the boat, and paddling the boards. And the vista couldn’t be beat. “This is easily one of the prettiest places I’ve ever been,” Green commented. I had to agree.

Later that afternoon, we took the dinghy on a snorkel expedition of a shipwreck on the reef extending to the southwest of Loggerhead Key. Much of the wreck is close enough to the surface to be snorkel-friendly, although I would have loved to have had scuba equipment with me. The site, known as the Windjammer Wreck, is a Norwegian sailing vessel named Avanti that sank in 1907 while en route to Uruguay from Pensacola. It might not be easy to impress teenagers, but I’m pretty sure that snorkeling on a shipwreck did.

Unfortunately, our time at Loggerhead was up, and we trekked back to the fort anchorage for the night. We made it back with enough time for Juliana to have one more swim and for William and Camilla to explore in the dinghy along the shore. Sunset that night was breathtaking, and I swear that I saw the green flash. After dinner, William was trying a little night fishing from the stern when something in the water grabbed his attention. It seemed…big. Maybe a shark? Shining his headlamp into the water for a closer look, he discovered who our visitors were: three goliath groupers. He quickly put the fishing gear away, and we all gathered on the transoms to watch the incredible fish, which I had never seen in the wild before. Goliath groupers are an endangered ­species and can grow to be more than 8 feet long and 800 pounds. Their visit lasted easily a half-hour and was one of the coolest things I’ve witnessed. Watching the kids take it all in was the best part.

All too soon it was time to head back to the Dream Yacht Charter base. Our return sail was as lovely as the sail there was sporty, and everyone was in high spirits from the adventure we’d just had. After a few days of no cell signal, the teens were ready to be connected again, although I definitely was not. We made good enough time for a stop at the Marquesas Keys, an uninhabited group of islands west of Key West. The islands are low and mostly mangroves, and for us, unfortunately, offered no fishing luck. Oh well.

Since the boat had to be back at the base by 0900, we decided to anchor out for our last night aboard near the entrance channel to the marina. On the way there, William did have some fishing success, and a king mackerel would be part of the night’s menu, along with any of the remaining provisions. Taking in one last sunset, we all reflected on what an amazing week it had been. Giulia put it best when she wished out loud that we could just keep going. Me too, I thought, and we started chatting about where we might want to charter next.

We turned in Asgard the next morning and said our goodbyes, thankful for the opportunity, and in particular to have shared it with the kids. Taking a break from the stress of 2020 and piling on a boat for a week truly soothed our souls—even the teens had to agree—and it was, in ways we all needed, magic.

Jennifer Brett is CW’s senior editor.

If You Go

Weather: Key West is a year-round sailing destination, although the best time to go is between early November and early May. Summers are hot and humid with frequent thunderstorms and a chance of tropical storms. Winters can range from warm and muggy to cooler and drier if a front has passed through. While in the Dry Tortugas, you can check with the park rangers for the latest weather forecast (since your cell phone won’t work, and reception of NOAA weather radio is spotty).

Fishing: The waters of the Florida Keys and Dry Tortugas are highly regulated, so it’s best to brush up on the rules ahead of time. If you plan on fishing, purchase your fishing license before your charter at ­gooutdoorsflorida.com.

Park Fees: Visitors to the Dry Tortugas National Park must pay an entry fee, and if you’re there on a boat, you’ll need a boat permit. All can be purchased at the Garden Key dock house.

The post Finding Magic on a Journey Through the Florida Keys appeared first on Cruising World.

When it comes time for a sailing vacation or even a delivery trip on a friend’s boat, one of the great things about smartphones and tablets is that you can pack a ton of useful apps into a tiny device. Even better, they allow you to effectively bring your own nav system along on a boat whose chart plotter or choice of cartography might prove difficult to use. But calling it good with navigation assistance would be short-selling your phone or tablet. Here’s a look at some apps, broken down by category, that stand ready to help make your next getaway by sail an even better experience.

Accommodations

If you’re a veteran cruiser, you’re likely familiar with ActiveCaptain, which is a Garmin-owned app that connects countless users with information on almost 18,000 marinas, just shy of 13,000 anchorages, and more than 146,000 reviews of different marine-related ­businesses around the world. The free app is compatible with Android and iOS platforms; gives access to points-of-­interest information such as fuel-dock prices or marina reviews, as well as location and contact information; and includes access to the ActiveCaptain Community, which delivers user-written feedback and reviews on water-related businesses and experiences. Community information can be displayed as a layer atop Navionics cartography (another Garmin-owned brand; see below), giving you additional navigation and decision-making information when plying unfamiliar waters.

Scoring a night’s marina berth or dock space can sometimes be tricky. This is where Snag-a-Slip can be a highly valued virtual crewmember. The app is designed to help connect boaters with marinas and privately owned slips in North America and the Caribbean. Users input their particulars such as boat length, beam, draft and preferred dates, and then the app helps filter the options. Payments are done via credit card, and the app, which doesn’t charge a booking fee, guarantees to match a marina’s advertised rates. The app can also put cruisers in direct contact with the owners of private slips. Snag-a-Slip works on both Android and iOS platforms.

Go Fish

Fishbrain is a free app that works on both Android and iOS platforms, allowing anglers to record their catches and (optionally) share their location information. It also features its Species Recognition tool, which helps visiting cruisers ID their prizes. The app includes information on where the fish are biting and what kind of bait is attracting strikes, and its Fishing Forecast employs user data to help you plan your day. Fishbrain purportedly boasts more than 10 million users and features a social side that allows you to connect with other anglers. A paid version of the app—dubbed Fishbrain Pro—includes access to all shared catch locations, private-group conversations, and crowdsourced contour information via C-Map social maps.

Keep in Touch

While not a boating-specific piece of software, WhatsApp allows users to make phone and video calls and send texts using a smartphone’s internet connection rather than local cellular towers. Provided you have a way of accessing a Wi-Fi network, say, at a marina, this can save significant money and eliminates the hassle of dealing with SIM cards. WhatsApp employs end-to-end encryption, which ensures that the only people you call or text can hear or read what you’ve sent. This is particularly useful when using unsecured marina hotspots. Additionally, Android and iOS users can send photos, videos and voice memos, as well as documents (up to 100MB in size) using a few screen taps, and the app also supports group messaging (up to 256 users per communication), making it easy to securely keep in touch with family and friends.

Take a Hike

Many sailors, myself ­included, look forward to heading ashore for a hike as soon as the anchor is made fast. AllTrails leverages its community of 20 million users to give you at-a-tap access to more than 100,000 trails, including directions to trailheads, user-­submitted hike reviews, and crowdsourced photos. Hikers can access relevant maps and use their phone’s GPS to avoid getting lost (not that that would ever happen to an intrepid mariner), track their stats, and set filters to find, say, dog- or kid-friendly hikes. Alternatively, adventurers can opt for AllTrails Pro, which allows them to download maps for offline use, receive off-route notifications, and enjoy real-time map overlays.

Long trusted by outdoor enthusiasts (including myself), Gaia GPS turns your Android or Apple phone into a chart plotter for terrestrial adventures. The app is loaded with handy features, including its Discover tab, which helps visiting sailors connect with great nearby hikes. But its best feature is its ability to leverage your phone’s GPS to provide location information atop pre-loaded topographical maps, even when cellular service isn’t available. Hikers can access up-to-date weather forecasts via the app, and they can measure distance, altitude and elevation change with a few simple screen taps. The app offers three membership levels—free, member and premium member—that unlock different levels of downloadable topo and satellite maps.

Stay Well

No one likes to dwell on thoughts of medical emergencies, especially while off sailing, but the reality is that things can, and do, go pear-shaped. First Aid: American Red Cross, which is available for Android and iOS platforms, gives step-by-step instructions for navigating a menu of medical emergencies. The app includes pre-loaded content that can be accessed offline, and—for times when cellular or Wi-Fi connectivity exists—it also includes a handy hospital finder. The app is integrated with 911 services, and it includes informative videos that can help the crew brush up on their first-aid skills, as well as quizzes that help cement this knowledge base.

There’s more help ­available as well. If you or another crewmember falls ill, WebMD can help diagnosis the problem. The app’s Symptom Checker allows sailors to select their ailments and learn about care options, and its Doctor Directory can be a great resource for finding (and making appointments with) doctors and specialists. Users can leverage the app’s Medication Reminders to help them take their daily meds, even when time-zone shifts or vacation brain is at play, and its Drug Interaction Checker helps ensure that users don’t accidentally serve themselves an unsafe cocktail of prescription medications. WebMD works with Android and Apple devices, and it can be a useful source of second opinions if you’re cruising in areas where language barriers exist.

The Great Outdoors

One of the coolest aspects of chartering in new waters is the opportunity to identify unfamiliar birds. The ­trouble, of course, is identifying unknown species. Enter iBird Pro, a paid app that includes a deep database of all birds in North America, the United Kingdom, Ireland and Palau, as well as its Photo Sleuth feature, which leverages the app’s onboard artificial intelligence to match user-­captured bird images with their identities. The app delivers detailed illustrations of each species in its database, and its search engine allows birders to cross-reference characteristics such as their GPS location or a bird’s song type with the app’s database to identify nearby flyers. Moreover, the app also contains more than 4,000 bird songs, and its Birds Around Me feature lists usual suspects using your device’s location information.

Aside from staring at campfires, few activities are more hardwired into the human brain than stargazing. Star Walk 2 delivers a real-time virtual map of the night sky. Android and Apple mobile-device users can just point their phone at the sky, and the app leverages gyroscope and GPS information to match stars, planets, comets and constellations with its real-time map. The paid app’s Visible Tonight and What’s New features keep stargazers appraised of upcoming events in time to enjoy them with friends and family. Users can also leverage the app’s clock-face icon to virtually see the sky at different dates and times (past, present and future), and they can also find—and learn more about—deep-sky objects such as meteor showers. Additionally, the app can be used to learn more about planets, or even to track down the International Space Station.

Among sailors, it’s fair to say that whales rank highest on the list of charismatic megafauna species, even if it’s not always so easy to identify them by a cursory glimpse of a fin or a tail vanishing beneath the brine. WhaleGuide can help by offering detailed descriptions and some 850 photos of 68 species of whales and dolphins; in-app purchases can unlock an additional 560 images and 80-plus video clips. The for-pay app, which is available for Android and Apple platforms, offers descriptions of each species’ behavior, typical diving performances, regional habitats and usual hotspots (across 100 countries), as well as fun facts and figures. WhaleGuide’s Finder feature helps users identify whales using their device’s GPS ­coordinates and a few observed details, and it can also be used as a pre-cruise primer on what one might hope to encounter while sailing.

Map Time

Situational awareness ranks high on C-Map: Boating’s priority list, and the app is designed to give users at-a-glance info about what matters now. The app delivers an uncluttered appearance, and it auto-adjusts its color palette and contrast to ensure that its cartography, which is sourced from official hydrological offices and constantly updated, is readable. The app is free, but users who are cruising outside cellular coverage will want to upgrade to the app’s premium version so that they can download and store charts on their mobile device. The app’s Autorouting feature makes it easy to chart a course to Port B, and its Tracks feature leaves a trail of electronic breadcrumbs astern, making it simple to retrace your voyage. AIS targets (from within a 54-nautical-mile radius) can be overlaid atop chart views, and points of interest and weather information can also be accessed from within the app. Users can personalize their charts with images, notes and their choice of measurement units, and they can share their favorite (or recently discovered) anchorages with friends. It’s available for Android and iOS platforms.

On a personal note, I’ve long trusted Navionics to serve as my personal nav station, both for racing and cruising. The Navionics Boating app is available for Android and Apple devices, and gives mariners access to a wealth of Navionics vector cartography and unadulterated NOAA charts. Creating routes is a matter of tapping the screen and selecting waypoints, and the app’s crosshairs function makes it easy to explore chart features or add points of interest. Users can pair their mobile device with a Wi-Fi-enabled AIS receiver (or a chart plotter that’s networked to an AIS receiver) to overlap AIS targets atop cartography. ActiveCaptain Community information (see above) can also be accessed through the app. The Community Edits feature gives users access to points of interest. The app also provides angling information, such as its SonarChart feature, but it’s the app’s dock-to-dock Autorouting feature that helps remove navigational guesswork. Additional features include access to weather and tide information; Plotter Sync, which wirelessly transfers chart layers, routes, and waypoints between mobile devices and B&G or Raymarine chart plotters; and Connections, which helps you track your boating buddies.

To be clear, the MarineTraffic app isn’t a ­replacement for AIS information or an actual AIS receiver/transceiver, nor should it be relied upon to determine safe crossing distances, but it does provide information on nearby AIS-equipped vessels. Users can track vessels and glean ­insight into their arrival and departure information, and the app’s Access Plus 24 feature (which requires an in-app purchase) lets users look for ships and vessels that are far ­outside their geographic area using satellite AIS information. The app also provides access to some 2.5 million images of ships and points of navigational interest such as lighthouses and harbors, and users can upload their own imagery to this database. Additionally, the app provides wind forecasts and a route-planner function, and its Augmented Reality tool helps sailors identify vessels and points of interest using the ­device’s camera.

Play It Safe

Wise mariners set GPS-based anchor alarms so that they can deal with anchor-dragging hiccups before they devolve into full-blown problems, but this can sometimes be tricky on an unfamiliar chart plotter. Android users can stay a step ahead of the odds with Anchor Watch, which lets a skipper create a GPS-based geofence. Should the boat start to drift beyond the scope of its virtual anchor rode, the app trips a customizable audible alarm on the phone; the app’s professional version can also send email and instant-­message alerts. Likewise, the app will also trip an alarm if the phone loses GPS reception. Two cautionary notes: The phone needs to be placed in an area with strong GPS reception (the app displays its real-time signal strength), and apps that constantly monitor a phone’s GPS location need to be fed a steady diet of DC power, so plan accordingly.

Named simply Coast Guard, the US Coast Guard’s app is one that all mariners should have handy, both for domestic charter trips and for cruising their home waters. The Coast Guard’s app allows Android and Apple users to create float plans; locate NOAA buoys; report navigational hazards, pollution or suspicious behavior; or just brush up on the rules of the road. Sailors can also learn about local boating regulations from state to state, cross-­reference their onboard safety kit with the USCG’s checklist, get weather information from nearby NOAA buoys, and learn more about the safety regulations. The app also allows sailors to ping the USCG for emergency help via its Emergency Assistance button.

Two More Handy Apps

Money might enable overseas travel, but it can also pose headaches when exchange rates and money transfers are required. Xe Currency & Money Transfers can help with both of these issues by letting travelers check current rates of more than 130 currencies and track the transfer of their monies. Users can easily add recipients, and they can also set the app to alert them of currency fluctuations. Additionally, the app provides charts showing 10 years’ worth of rate history, which can be useful when choosing when to convert US dollars.

One good rule of the road for mariners on vacation or simply sailing from here to there involves not paying through the nose for cellular data. This is where WiFi Finder shines. The app, which works on both Android and iOS devices, allows you to research fast Wi-Fi hotspots (both local and global), and its offline functionality allows you to download this information as a map for later use. Users can filter hotspots by venue, such as hotels, cafes, etc., and the app also works in offline mode, which can further diminish your reliance on overseas cellular data.

David Schmidt is CW’s ­electronics editor.

Apps-at-a-Glance

ActiveCaptain: garmin .com; free, with in-app purchases

AllTrails: alltrails.com; free or $30 per year for the professional version

Anchor Watch: peckish-sloth.com; from $6

C-Map: Boating: c-map.com; free, with in-app purchases

First Aid: American Red Cross: redcross.org; free

Fishbrain: fishbrain.com; free, with in-app purchases

Gaia GPS: gaiagps.com; free, with in-app purchases

iBird Pro: ibird.com; $15

MarineTraffic: marinetraffic.com; free, with in-app purchases

Navionics: navionics.com; free, with in-app purchases

Snag-a-Slip: snagaslip.com; free

Star Walk 2: starwalk.space/en; from $3

Coast Guard: uscgboating.org; free

WebMD: webmd.com; free

WhaleGuide: ocean-pix.de; $10

WhatsApp: whatsapp.com; free

WiFi Finder: etrality.com; $5 for three months or $10 per year

Xe Currency & Money Transfers: xe.com; free

The post Smartphone Apps for Sailing appeared first on Cruising World.

In 2015, Martin Manrique and Carlien Pels arrived in Curaçao, determined to change their lifestyles. The the Argentinian and Dutch newlyweds had left their promising engineering careers, families and friends on dry land, intent on making a sailboat their permanent home.

“We had both finished our studies, so we said f—k it, let’s see if we can do it. The challenge was exciting,” says Manrique, an Argentinian National sailing coach. “We loved the idea of adventure and sea exploration, and the freedom it could give you.” Yet, finding the perfect boat proved challenging.

They finally found the one, however, a 37-foot fiberglass Apollo 12, built in Greece by Dromor Yachts. Its beautiful wooden cabin would be perfect for chartering, they thought. The seller, a widow who had sailed it across the ocean with her husband, had moved back to Australia. Manrique purchased it via a broker for just $10,000. “You think it’s so cheap, but you don’t know what you’re getting into. You find cracks, holes, things to fix, and you think, can I even cross an ocean with this?” Manrique says. They spent the next six months and another $6,000 making repairs.

Bought on the anniversary of the passing of Pels’ mom, the couple decided to name their boat Anna-Laura after both of their mothers. “It was a good name because our boat was like a grandma, about to pass away every time we went sailing,” Manrique says with a laugh, adding that the old boat came adorned with velvet red curtains that reminded him of his grandmother’s kitchen.

The cracks began to show as soon as they set sail from Curaçao. Manrique was glowing, sailing Anna-Laura for the first time to a nearby island. He trimmed the mainsail, powering upwind, cracking the keel over the waves like the dinghies back home. With no land in sight, Pels came up on deck. “I think we’re sinking,” she said. The cabin was knee-deep in water, and the couple had no idea where it was coming from. They began to bail.

After an hour, Anna-Laura thankfully wasn’t taking on more water. A closer examination revealed the sealant that glued together the deck and the hull was coming apart from pounding in the waves. “It was not going to sink because we bailed the water faster than it could get in. But we had to reseal the boat. We decided to never sail upwind again. We would wait for the wind to change in the direction we wanted to go. We took grandma for a run, and she couldn’t handle it,” Manrique jokes. Pels, shaking her head and smiling, notes, “It wasn’t very funny at the time.”

For the next four years, the couple sailed and visited Caribbean locales while finding temporary work as sailing and watersports instructors. The community of sailors they met along the way became some of their closest companions, trading parts or helping with repairs. Pels explains the unspoken bond between sailors succinctly: “You help people because you will need someone’s help too.”

Equipped with a speargun, a water-­filtration system, money from their sailing clinics, and supplies purchased at their various ports of entry, the couple cobbled together a living. After a certain point, the sea became home and the land unknown.

While docked in a village on the north coast of Colombia, a young boy named Juan Carlo would change the couple’s course forever. “This kid just knocked on our door and asked us if we could teach him how to sail,” Manrique says. “The kid was a natural. He just grabbed the rudder and sailed on instinct.”

More students and lessons followed. The couple’s stints teaching sailing would take them to a remote part of Honduras and further cement the idea that would eventually become their nonprofit, Make Them Sailors. “We wanted to give these groups of kids the resources to make a living out of sailing like we did,” Manrique says. “We had a network of sailors with old equipment that we could donate to different schools around the Caribbean.” Their network came through, finding used boats, rigging, and sails to give to groups of young kids in Colombia, Honduras, and elsewhere.

In 2019, Manrique and Pels left Honduras to pick up an Optimist dinghy from a youth regatta in Miami where they had organized a donation day for the children back in Honduras. As they rounded the western point of Cuba, Pels fell ill. Little did they know, she was pregnant and was experiencing crippling bouts of morning sickness. Unable to dock in Cuba due to international bans, Manrique sailed solo for 150 miles to the Florida Keys to find a doctor for his wife.

Docking in the Keys, a doctor brought them the news: It was twins. The couple named them Sukie Bonnie and Cleo Marie after the famous female pirates Anne Bonny and Mary Read. “Once the twins were born, we just couldn’t go back to the boat. It was impossible,” Manrique says. They had to sell the Anna-Laura.

Then, a week after the babies were born and the boat was sold, an old sailing companion from Nassau called Manrique. He asked him to bring his sailing talents down to the Bahamas to open a school. Another case of a sailor helping a sailor. In February 2020, the family moved to Eleuthera to open their own sailing school.

RELATED: Learning to Sail

“We’re officially teaching a new generation of kids how to sail,” Manrique beams. “Kids here don’t have education past primary school. The sailing school provides them structure.” Meanwhile, Make Them Sailors continues to collect and donate sailing materials for underprivileged, aspiring sailors. Founded in the Netherlands, the nonprofit now supports sailing schools in Buenos Aires, Montevideo, Paraguay, Chile and the Bahamas. They are currently making a blueprint for how to open new sailing schools, collect gear, and raise money for sailing scholarships.

For Manrique and Pels, they never could have imagined where their boat would carry them. The afternoon waned as Pels brought burgers out to their beachfront porch filled with children. “Some moments you love the ocean life, and other moments are complete nightmares,” Manrique muses. “Living with passion and sharing that passion with others is the only way we know how to live. The lows are just part of the excitement.”

Wes Morton is a writer and media professional based in Los Angeles. You’ll find more of his work and writing at creativstrategies.com

The post Make Them Sailors appeared first on Cruising World.

COVID-19 has taken away much, but at the same time, it has given us vast stretches of uninterrupted time. I’ve used mine to catch up on my reading and to putter around my boat electrically. Since we’re particularly blessed with cheap LED components here in Southeast Asia, where my wife, Carolyn, and I are sitting out the pandemic aboard our Wauquiez ketch, Ganesh, I started out by focusing on lighting.

We now have nearly hidden red night lights gently illuminating our teak-and-holly cabin sole. They’re on two switches just inside the companionway. One we use if we’re headed forward from our amidships cockpit, the other if we’re going aft through the walk-through into the aft cabin. Obviously, both circuits are independently fused and the wires loomed away from any water or dampness. Each LED bulb is placed behind something—a door, bulkhead lip or ledge—so that coming below at night, we don’t see bulbs directly, only the glow of faint red illumination.

The new lighting makes it easier and safer to move around the boat at night in a seaway and helps preserve our night vision. It has the added benefit of making our varnished mahogany interior look stunning.

Speaking of our walk-through, it is quite dark in this area and easy to trip on steps built into the sole. It’s an airless, stuffy part of the boat, and we had replaced the sea bunk there with our offshore safety gear. The Paratech sea anchors, Jordan series drogues and various other slowing devices (and their rodes) take up a lot of space. Anyway, the bottom line is that this area not only needed gentle red illumination that preserves our night vision while we transit it, but also bright illumination if we need to access our portable Edson bilge pump, our ditch bag or our three dry bags of life-raft supplies. The problem is that anywhere you put a light switch would be wrong. The solution was a double-pole double-throw switch that can be turned on and off at either end of the passageway.

Too posh? Perhaps, but kind of cool as well. Why not do projects and make repairs that make you smile? (Actually, our 43-foot cruiser had something like this as original equipment, we just had to replace the switches and run new wires.)

Since we have little money, we do a massive amount of entertaining aboard for two reasons: One, we can control the cost, and two, we can repay the favors done by others who picked up a bar tab or paid for dinner ashore.

The good news is that our folding cockpit table is massive and sits six, but illuminating it wasn’t easy. To correct that, we used a strip of warm-yellow LEDs that now spreads the illumination and still allows the food to look good. Carolyn isn’t merely a good cook—her dinners are as visually pleasing as they taste. And I like to see my food, so this strip is fairly bright.

After dinner, however, we switch it off and turn on a single, softer warm-yellow LED cocktail light, which is totally waterproof as well. As an aside, I’ll say that dim lights and romance go hand in hand, especially at 70 years of age.

I’ve installed a 360-degree anchor light on our mizzen that automatically turns on at dusk and shuts off at dawn.

Since we regularly sail in the Indian Ocean, our cockpit is often awash and fire-hosed by breaking seas, so using top-quality waterproof components here is a must. I not only use heat-shrink terminals, but I also put an additional, longer piece of heat shrink over them so I have double the chance of keeping out the aerated salt crystals that eventually cause bad electrical connections.

From time to time, we have to throw our rum-guzzling friends back into their dinghies at some point in the evening. Now we have a dedicated mizzen LED spotlight that shines down on the aft deck area by our stern ladder. In addition, our stern light is mounted on our transom and arranged in such a manner that it illuminates the dinghy and the ladder as visitors board or tipsily debark.

Just in case we pass out with relief once our guests leave, I’ve installed a 360-degree anchor light on our mizzen that automatically turns on at dusk (or even during dark squalls) and shuts off at dawn. This is in addition to our brighter main masthead light, which is manually switched.

Because we spend so much of our time in the tropics, all of our boats have featured fans at the berths, galley and nav station. In the name of efficiency, we use cageless 12-volt fans with on/off switches conveniently located so that our sleepy fingers don’t get bitten by the spinning blades.

At this point in our lives, we’re more interested in small projects with immediate benefits.

In both heads we have a normal light, a reading light and a muffin, or computer exhaust fan, to carry away odors.

Strangely, since we often sail in high winds, our windspeed instrument is both dirt cheap (it’s a nonmarine Maximum) and manually switched. Yes, I want to occasionally know the windspeed during a gale, but only at times. The last thing I need is for nervous guests to watch the wind gust into the 40-knot range and have their blood pressure rise with the breeze.

Since we’ve lived most of our lives at anchor near islands in developing nations, we have a panic button—a doorbell, really —by the side of my pillow. The idea here is to passively and non-confrontationally scare away boarders before they get below, especially if they’ve swum out to our boat with a machete in their teeth. This button unleashes loud sirens and bright strobes at both the companionway and on the ­mizzen mast. I’ve used them four or five times over the years, and they are so bright and loud, they are panic-inducing. I’ve found that they’re particularly effective if da teef’s dinghy has just “touched” our hull and the bad boys are still in it.

Since we earn our pennies as we sail, we have to have our computerized tools conveniently with us wherever we work. We have 5-volt chargers in the aft cabin, saloon, nav station, tool room and cockpit. Whew! We’ve gone on daysails with eight or 10 executive-type paper pushers, and just keeping up with their iPhone charging needs is a full-time job.

While we now use wireless Bose portable speakers in our cockpit for music, we just installed a removable RAM3 remote mic and speaker there for our Horizon VHF radio. We seldom chat on our VHF, buddy boat or convoy with other cruisers, but I find that having a cockpit speaker and remote mic is extremely useful during boat-to-boat rescues or in other situations where immediate communication becomes necessary.

Meanwhile, down below, we now have two lights in our engine room. One provides soft light that we use when routinely checking our fluids; the other is a bright one in case we’re chasing a major ­mechanical problem or leak.

In addition to the panic alarm I mentioned earlier, we also rely on our $17 burglar alarm system, though not while in Singapore, because in this ­city-state of 6 million people, we never lock our vessel, dinghy or even our bikes. How crime-free is S’pore? To reserve a table in one of the busy food courts, elderly male Singaporeans will leave their iPhone to mark their spot, while the ladies just drop off their purse amid the sea of strangers. Ah, Singapore is utterly amazing. The last item that went missing off a boat at the Changi Sailing Club was just after World War II!

However, while cruising Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand, we do set our burglar alarm as we leave our often-­solitary anchored vessel. Thus, we feel the $17 dollars we gave Amazon was well-spent for the relay timer that automatically shuts off all our bells, sirens and strobes after five minutes of unbearable racket. The alarm is triggered by a high-tech pressure-sensitive switch made from two broken sail battens wrapped in copper that make contact as you step into our cockpit. We also have a trip thread at the boarding ladder that we can add if we’re in a particularly worrisome area.

Here’s the truth of it: I’ve built entire boats from a few sheets of paper plans, and I’ve made expensive repairs to other vessels. Sailboats are complicated, and maintaining them is time-consuming. But there’s nothing like sailing across an ocean on a vessel that was once just a glimmer in your eye as you stared at a ­distant horizon. At this point in our lives, however, we’re more interested in small ­projects with immediate benefits. We need gentle lights to hide our wrinkles. Most of these projects cost almost nothing, only time. Carolyn and I often work on them together. Romance, after all, can be fostered while stripping wires as much as anything else.

And we keep our sense of humor while doing so. Every time I ask my wife a ­question, she says, “Watt?” As former hippies, we love our om-meter. Nothing impedes us. Don’t be shocked; we still get a charge out of making each other smile.

Fatty and Carolyn Goodlander report that they are beginning to go stir-crazy sitting aboard Ganesh in Singapore in Year Two of the pandemic.

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If you decide to self-provision before a bareboat charter, figuring out exactly what you need for a week on board, usually for multiple crewmembers with different food likes and dislikes, can be daunting. As a crewed-charter cook, I’ve provisioned for between four and seven guests every week during the sailing season for the past 20 years. Early on, I learned that for all to go smoothly, not cost a fortune and to avoid waste, I needed to plan daily meals in advance, then shop accordingly. Here are some tips. (For more general hints on provisioning for charters, see “Provisioning Made Easy”.

If you’re sailing with family, this is a job for the family cook. If you’re sailing with friends, choose one person to organize the menu and food-shopping list—you can easily share the actual shopping and meal prep once you’re all at your destination and aboard. In general, keep meals (and recipes) simple, using ingredients that can be found almost anywhere. For breakfast, remember that everyone will be eager to get sailing, and sumptuous cooked breakfasts take time. (Plus, not everyone will rise at the same hour—you’re on vacation!—and there’s nothing worse than cold scrambled eggs.) Continental “buffet” breakfasts are the way to go: fruit, granola, yogurt, muffins or sweetbread (store-bought are fine), even bread and butter with jam—plus a pot or two of coffee—and you’re good to go.

On charters in Greece, we follow local tradition and eat a light cooked lunch with salad most days; this is often easier than making sandwiches for a crowd. On rough days, ­pre-made sandwiches do fit the bill—use whatever’s available locally. Tortilla wraps can easily be made in advance, and when individually wrapped in wax paper or plastic wrap, they will store well in the fridge until lunchtime. In the evening, we generally head ashore to a local island taverna for a meal, but whenever we do eat dinner aboard, to avoid heating up the boat with the stovetop or oven, generally we turn to the trusty transom barbecue: grilled fish, chicken, steaks or burgers with a small appetizer, fresh bread, and a big salad or two.

Ready to get started? Here are a few of my tips:

Gather food preferences. Unless you’re sailing with family and you know everyone’s likes and dislikes, not to mention appetites, email your crew a few quick, simple “food-preference” questions. Include basic questions such as appetite level (small, medium or large), food allergies and items anyone hates or will not eat. Do people want tea or coffee? What kind? Decaf or regular? Then ask specifics about what kind and how many drinks people want aboard (water, soda, beer, wine, booze, mixers). Include snack preferences: chips, nuts, crackers, cheese. And so on. Ask them to take five minutes to fill it out, save it (or snap a photo) and email it back to you. Remember: A major reason for food waste is buying items your crew either doesn’t like or won’t eat.

Plan the week’s menu: breakfast, lunch, dinner (or whichever daily meals you’ll eat on board). Once you have your mates’ preferences in hand, plan a menu for the week: breakfast, lunch and/or dinner for each day. If you’re chartering for a week, estimate how many days you’ll actually eat every meal on board, and how many days you’ll head ashore for dinner. Keep in mind that the first and/or last days of your charter might not require all meals aboard, depending on where you sail. Keep meals—even cooked ones—uncomplicated and easy to prepare on board. Next, on a blank piece of paper, make a simple grid, as shown in the photo on page 80. To keep it simple, do it by hand. Write in the days of your trip (Saturday through Friday, for example). Fill in daily breakfast buffet items at the top. Then, for each day, on the left, fill in your menu for lunch and/or dinner. Leave the last full day of the charter blank. On the right, list all the ingredients you need to buy for each day’s meals—all ingredients, right down to the condiments you’ll need if sandwiches are on the lunch menu. For dinners or cooked lunches, it helps to have your recipes in front of you while you do this, unless you know them by heart.

Of course, once you’re there, you can mix up the order of meals, but this ensures you have all the ingredients you need on board. Store your recipes on your phone or tablet or print them out and bring them with you—that way people can take turns cooking. If you need herbs or spices, to save money and avoid waste, either bring your own (there are travel spice kits available online) or buy fresh, if available. (This is my ­preference. I always include fresh parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme and oregano.) Depending on the boat, you might even need to add salt and pepper to your spice list. Now you’re halfway there.

Make your master grocery list. This is easier to do on a laptop, which makes it simple to add, delete, cut, copy and paste. Impulse shopping with a bare-bones list or no list at all is the biggest reason for wasted food at the end of a charter (not to mention added expense). Use your menu plus your crew’s food preferences to make your master list. Finally, add basic staples such as napkins, paper towels, facial tissue, toilet paper and cleaning supplies (such as dishwashing liquid, sponges and all-purpose spray cleaner). It’s helpful to categorize the list (meat/seafood, produce, drinks, dry goods, dairy, cleaning supplies), which will save you lots of time at the grocery store.

You’re almost ready to go sailing! Once you’ve arrived at your destination, your list will make provisioning quick and hassle-free. If you do run out of something as you go, most charter destinations have either large or small markets in various ports, making topping up odds and ends (or sampling local delicacies) easy and fun. In Greece, even tiny islands have a local bakery—fresh bread and/or pastry on demand!

At charter’s end, get creative. Mealwise, I call the last full day of a charter a “Joker Day”—short for: “Let’s use up everything we have left.” On the last day, usually I serve impromptu meals using odds and ends still left in the fridge or storage lockers. Sailors are a resourceful lot; you’d be surprised by the delicious meals you can make by amassing and assessing all the stray items lingering at the end of a charter week.

Got leftover bread, milk and a few eggs? Splurge and make a big breakfast on your last day. French toast is an easy option, or make a bread-crusted quiche: Oil an ovenproof dish, tear bread into small pieces, and press to the bottom. Drizzle generously with melted butter. Beat eggs with a dash of milk or cream, add salt and pepper, then stir and pour over bread to cover. Top with grated cheese, if you have it. Bake at 400 degrees for 15 to 20 minutes, or until eggs are set. No bread? No problem. Skip it, and just make baked eggs—like a crustless quiche.

If you have a few stray pieces of fruit still lingering —grapes, melon, bananas, pineapples, berries, kiwi—slice or chop and toss together to make a simple fruit salad; any combination will do. If you have lemons or limes, squeeze juice over fruit, add a drizzle of honey, and stir to combine; otherwise, just slice and serve.

Leftover pasta? Cook it up and make pasta salad. You can add chopped bits of stray onions, celery, tomatoes, green peppers; just about any kind of cheese; sliced turkey or ham—even items like that half-jar of pickles or olives in the fridge. Add some mayo, bottled vinaigrette or just oil and wine vinegar, salt and pepper to taste, then stir, and you’re good to go.

If you’ve got canned or jarred treats lingering—such as marinated artichoke hearts, asparagus spears, roasted peppers or olives—arrange them on small individual plates, ­garnish with whatever herbs you have left, and enjoy with fresh bread (if available) as a last-day lunch. In Greece, this variety of small plates are called mezedes, otherwise known as tapas. If you have eggs, add these: Just hard-boil, peel, slice into quarters, and arrange on a small plate. Add salt, pepper, a splash of red wine vinegar and a bit of oil, stray capers if you have them, and you’ve got another plate. Ditto with stray bits of cheese, salami, tomatoes or cucumbers: Cut, slice, and make a plate. Fresh veggies—such as carrots, peppers, zucchini, eggplant or mushrooms—can be sliced or julienned and ­marinated for a few hours in bottled or homemade ­vinaigrette to make a marinated-­veggie platter. Alternatively, toss with oil, salt and pepper, and roast for 20-25 minutes at 390 degrees F, and you have delicious roasted vegetables. Raw carrots or zucchini, cut into sticks, can make a small raw-veggie platter. For dips: If you have a bit of mayo left, add a squeeze of lemon or lime. If your spice kit includes curry powder, mix mayo with a shake of curry, and stir for a dip with zing. You can even mix leftover ketchup and mayo for a simple thousand-island dip.

The possibilities are endless, and will differ in every sailing location. The trick is to evaluate what you have, then get creative. Besides, there are few foods that aren’t satisfying when consumed while swinging on the hook in a stunning harbor in your chosen vacation paradise.

That’s it! All it takes for easy, stress-free culinary success on charters—with no leftovers—is a little preplanning with a dash of creativity.

Lynda Morris Childress and her husband, Kostas Ghiokas, have sailed and chartered their Atlantic 70 cutter, Stressbuster, in the Greek Islands since 2003.

The post Provision Planning for a Sailboat Charter Vacation appeared first on Cruising World.

Charlie Cary knew from the first moment he laid eyes on the pristine waters of Sir Francis Drake Channel—the storied strait coursing through the celebrated, sun-splashed isles that constitute the sailor’s paradise known as the British Virgin Islands—that he’d arrived somewhere very special. It was 1969, Cary had recently retired after several decades as a successful corporate executive, and with his wife, Ginny, he’d traveled to the BVI with a rather vague notion of converting his longtime love of sailing into a solid business opportunity.

He was smitten, enthralled, gobsmacked by the sheer ­beauty of the Sir Francis Drake and the lush islets that dotted its flanks, and also by the astonishing fact that there was little boat traffic, that these were “virgin” islands in more ways than one. The countless protected anchorages were practically empty. There was literally nobody else around.

And then…Charlie and Ginny hung out a shingle for their new enterprise: a bareboat charter outfit called the Moorings, the first of what would become dozens of similar operations, all of which over the next five decades transformed the formerly sleepy British Virgins (and the rest of the Caribbean) into a bustling nautical wonderland, one of the most revered chartering and cruising destinations in the entire world.

Then, in March 2020, in what would usually be one of the busiest months in the crazy high season, the pandemic struck. Basically, and almost instantly, from a traffic and tourist standpoint, the BVI—and the rest of the mostly lock-downed planet, for that matter—reverted to what Cary saw when he initially gazed upon it. Not a sail in sight. A place stopped in its tracks. Indefinitely on hold. The Moorings—and every other charter company in the worldwide network of the vast vacation-sailing industry that had, collectively, more or less adopted its original business model—had come to a complete, utter, screeching halt.

Which leaves us with an open-ended question, with few simple answers.

And then what happened?

The Outset

Symbolically, you could make a case that the BVI represents ground zero in the realm of the chartering universe, the epicenter from which the destructive shock waves of the coronavirus reverberated worldwide. The cold, hard statistics—as gleaned from an annual survey on the state of the chartering, boatbuilding and yacht-brokerage industries conducted by the publishers of this magazine and presented during a Sail America virtual event sponsored by the American Sailing Association—bear it out. Please divert the attention of the young or the frail because these numbers ain’t pretty.

The results cover a span of 12 months, from September 2019 to August 2020: six months pre-COVID-19 and six months during the pandemic. Forty-four active bareboat charter companies were contacted and 92 percent of them participated, including all the market leaders. The news is grim right from the outset: Eighteen companies were shuttered, their voyage of commerce done and dusted forevermore. Digging deeper, several bullet points from the “Key 2020 Charter Market Findings” tell the sad, sorry tale to a fuller extent:

Bareboat chartering is decimated by COVID-19, down 59 percent from 37,022 charter weeks to 15,256 weeks (for sail and power trips) during the period September 2019 through August 2020.

Sail bareboat charter weeks booked out of the North American source market in 2020 are down 57 percent from 31,971 weeks to 13,879 weeks. Powerboat charters fare worse, losing 73 percent from 5,051 weeks down to 1,377 weeks.

Estimated basic bareboat fees in 2020 came in at just over $68 million, almost $100 million less than last year due to a 59 percent drop in business.

Mercy.

Of course, stats are one thing, but to truly comprehend the figures, one needs to speak to the actual people in the trenches who not only crunched the numbers, but also got crunched by them. In a series of interviews conducted with many of the leading charter-industry players, my opening question was a simple one: Do the numbers above, a devastating overall drop in business between 55 and 60 percent across the board, reflect what happened at your company?

“Yes,” said Jesper Rönngard, owner of Navigare Yachting, a 20-year-old enterprise with some 350 yachts in a dozen destinations stationed around the planet. “We might have been worse. We sold only 36 percent of what we were forecast to sell in 2020. When the pandemic hit, everything just stopped. Dead. No sales, nothing, nowhere. All destinations closed. With our staff, we had to cut down, lay off, furlough, whatever. These were my personal friends after all these years. The past 15 months have been an emotional roller coaster.”

“Yes,” said Erin Minner, charter manager for the Americas (and Caribbean) for Dream Yacht Charters, another industry juggernaut with more than three-dozen bases around the world. “We did the Miami Boat Show (in February 2020), and everything was OK, it seemed. A few weeks later, the world stopped. By the end of March, I’d let go half my sales team. We weren’t closing bases but shutting them down temporarily left and right. At the beginning, it was kind of like reliving Hurricane Irma (in 2017, which ravaged the Caribbean) with all the cancellations and rebookings, but on a global scale. It was pretty traumatic.”

“Yes,” said Josie Tucci, vice president of sales and marketing for Travelopia, parent company of charter giants Sunsail and the Moorings. When I spoke to her in early June, she’d just returned to the office for the first time in more than a year, one of only a half-dozen Travelopia staffers (out of the usual 90 or thereabouts) back on the job in the firm’s Florida headquarters.

“We’ve had a stop/start continuation of reopenings at most of our bases that constantly changed last year, and still is changing.”

“Reopenings” is the current, magic word of hope and ­optimism, the welcome light at the end of the pandemic tunnel that has begun in much of the charter world—and everywhere else—to varying degrees. It’s possible, of course, because the virus is waning; US travelers aren’t allowed to travel everywhere (Canada, New Zealand and Australia leap immediately to mind), but at press time in early summer, Americans were allowed to venture forth internationally to nations that were open as long as they presented a negative COVID-19 test administered within 72 hours of returning home.

However, as Tucci notes when discussing Travelopia bases reopening in the Mediterranean, “many Americans could come here but aren’t quite ready for that yet.” There are other reasons some popular European bases are opening back up in fits and starts. “For example,” she said, “with regard to our Med bases, British citizens can’t travel to anywhere that isn’t on their country’s ‘green list’ of acceptable countries without risking quarantine and other things.” The Brits make up an ample portion of Travelopia’s customer base in the Med, which is one reason the Moorings and Sunsail aren’t feeling completely out of the woods. Another, related reason is that Travelopia’s fiscal year runs from October 1 to September 30, so 2021, financially, is looking like another wash.

Elsewhere, along with the antipodal nations of Oz and New Zealand, which have in effect closed ranks (and borders) and ­swaddled their citizens in a protected blanket free from ­tourists and visitors, several charter destinations in the southern Caribbean remain closed or with stringent quarantine restrictions, including St. Lucia, Grenada and St. Vincent, the latter of which has suffered through what has essentially been a triple whammy.

Regarding their base in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, Horizon Yacht Charter’s director, Andrew Thompson, made note of the series of eruptions of La Soufrière, St. Vincent’s active volcano, in April of this year. “The Soufrière situation has been incredibly sad,” he said, while questioning whether the Horizon base in St. Vincent and the Grenadines will be able to open and be back on track by this November. “You’re hit by Irma (in 2017), then you’re doused with COVID, then you have a volcano eruption that covers your fleet in ash. It’s just been a nightmare.”

Meanwhile, incredibly, perhaps in a parallel universe, the pandemic was sparking contrasting and prosperous activity in a distinctly specific segment of the chartering world.

The Anomalies

At first glance, Barb Hansen, longtime owner and proprietor of Southwest Florida Yachts in Cape Coral, Florida, and Kurt Jerman, president of West Coast Multihulls in San Diego, seem an unlikely pair. Hansen’s a no-nonsense Florida gal, whose company offers a mix of catamarans for charter but also has a strong fleet of trawlers and monohulls. Jerman’s a Cali dude, who was, is and ever shall be singularly devoted to what he believes are the best, coolest boats on the planet: cruising cats. But both of them share similarities, including business models that offer plenty of instruction and classes in addition to your basic bareboat and crewed chartering, and each also has a yacht-brokerage arm on the side. (Everybody contacted for this article who also sells boats agreed that that side of their businesses went absolutely bonkers over the previous 16 months, which is really the subject of an entirely different story.)

For the purposes of this discussion, however, here’s the thread that links Hansen and Jerman: In 2020, despite the pandemic—or, to be completely honest, because of it—both of them enjoyed one of the wildest, craziest, busiest years in their respective firm’s long history.

California was basically closed for the first two months of COVID. “But,” Jerman said, “once things opened up in June, we ended up having the best year we’ve had in the 11 years since I opened the school and the charter business. It was phenomenal. By the end of the year, we’d exceeded what we’d done the year before. And that was being shut down for two months! It was amazing. About midway through, I was starting to feel guilty. So many people were suffering. But the same thing happened with the biking industry and the RV industry. Businesses that let people do stuff out of doors just thrived through this period. I feel incredibly blessed by the whole thing.”

On the opposite coast, restrictions in Florida weren’t quite as stringent as in California, but April and May 2020 were still quiet. The economy of scale, obviously, is far different for a local charter outfit than a global conglomerate. But business is business, and what the stateside companies were experiencing was something new and unexpected. “About June time, it really, really picked up,” Hansen said, describing a mirror image of what Jerman was experiencing out west. “Everybody was calling and saying: ‘We were going to do this or that, we had vacation plans, but they got canceled. What do you have available?’ So, we ended up with a really busy summer, fall and winter. It was crazy. Good crazy. But crazy. And I think a lot of that is folding over into this year and next, from what I can see.”

What the two companies shared was a domestic destination that people could reach by loading up the family vehicle and driving there. The same phenomenon was underway from sea to shining sea, with charter outfits in the Great Lakes and the Pacific Northwest also reporting ­bang-up years.

Dream’s Erin Minner, based in Annapolis, Maryland, said: “We had people coming here last year in RVs—driving across the country!—then taking a boat out for 10 days. It’s nuts. In 2019, we had a handful of bookings in Annapolis, maybe 10 a month. Now we’re taking upwards of 30.” In addition to Annapolis, Dream also reopened bases last summer in Newport, Rhode Island, and Lake Champlain, Vermont, and later in the year in Key West, Florida. And how was business in those locations, I asked. “Booming,” Minner said.

But it wasn’t just the US mainland that was off the charts. So too was the US Virgin Islands, which never experienced the major lockdown and restrictions of its neighbor, the BVI, and which was a relatively easy, open place to reach for US citizens. Dream reopened its St. Thomas base in early October and, Minner said, “it exploded. Like nothing we’d ever seen. We went from starting with six boats, and within a few months, we had 90 there.” Dream flooded the territory’s zone by importing yachts from bases such as Martinique and Guadeloupe—French holdings that were greatly affected by that nation’s pandemic policies—and Grenada, which had a 14-day quarantine in effect that essentially closed that shop. “We took the majority of fleets in the Caribbean that weren’t operating at full capacity and moved them to where they could be chartered,” she said.

In the meantime, over in the BVI, matters were slowly, ­tentatively teetering back toward something called “normal.”

The Pilgrims

Horizon Yacht Charters is headquartered in the central BVI hub of Tortola, and it was there to which its director, Thompson, returned in early March after a brief trip stateside. “My partner and I decided that, as good ­citizens, we’d isolate,” he said. “That rolled into a government-­enforced lockdown at the end of the month, which meant you were not allowed to leave your property, you weren’t allowed past the end of the driveway—for people fortunate enough to have driveways.” The government did allow several days for grocery shopping before shutting down the islands, and another three-day window to reprovision in the middle of the lockdown. But that was it. “It was incredibly stringent,” Thompson said.

It would be eight long months, until December 1, 2020, before people were allowed back to Tortola, but with strict quarantine restrictions in place. Thompson was able to keep Horizon afloat in the interim by putting into place a two-tiered maintenance program for the private yachts he managed in his fleet. Nearly every owner signed up. With that scheme, although he had to cut Horizon’s staff to 20 hours a week, he didn’t have to lay off anyone. “That was our revenue, our cash flow, during lockdown,” he said.

Once he was able to hop on a boat and venture out again, Thompson encountered something unexpected and wonderful, the proverbial silver lining rimming the dark cloud. “It was very quiet, and the whole ecosystem, frankly, had had time to recover,” he said. “All the sea life moved back in, especially the turtles; there was an absolute abundance of hawksbill sea turtles left, right and center. The quality of the water was spectacular, and the joy of picking almost any harbor and being the only boat in it was fantastic. A few clients started trickling back in. The people who came absolutely loved it.”

After the new year, many more customers—particularly those who’d chartered there before, who loved the place and had made the sailor’s pilgrimage to the BVI on multiple occasions—began to book trips and return to the islands. For several months in 2021, a series of multiple COVID tests were required before traveling and once again after arriving; there was also a four-day mandatory quarantine in place, though you were allowed to do so on your charter yacht in designated anchorages. That was cut to a single day on May 1, and on June 15, fully vaccinated travelers no longer had to take a test upon arrival or quarantine at all.

A year to the month after the initial lockdown, this past March, the four members of the Sawicz clan from Chicago—having made the trip down to the islands every other year for the past dozen—once again booked a vacation with the Moorings, this time on a 39-foot catamaran (they’d originally planned a sailing trip to Tahiti, which was still shut down, and were more than happy to pivot back to the BVI). What they discovered upon arrival, with regard to limited resources and a traffic-free Sir Francis Drake Channel, was not dissimilar to what Charlie and Ginny Cary encountered at first glance more than 50 years ago. “Empty,” said dad Rich Sawicz, a healthcare professional and lifelong sailor. “Maybe like three boats.”

When it came to their itinerary, the Sawiczes had a simple plan: “My wife said she’d do breakfasts and lunches, but when it came to dinner, she said, ‘I’m off the boat!’ That was the requirement. Our route followed what restaurants we knew were open.”

Like their fellow travelers, the eatery options were few and far between. But old favorites such as Pirate’s Bight, Foxy’s and the Soggy Dollar were all open, and they made it work. And it had some unexpected benefits. When they got to the iconic Baths on Virgin Gorda, which they basically had to themselves, they scrambled up the rocks to the restaurant on the hill and enjoyed an Easter Sunday repast in the company of the locals, all dressed up for the special day. It made it an especially memorable occasion.

A couple of weeks later, when software executive Michael Heffner of Cohasset, Massachusetts—with his wife and two kids, and another couple from their coastal village, with their pair of kids—descended on the BVI, they had a ready solution to the chow question. They chartered their spanking-new Moorings 50 cat, fresh from South Africa on its maiden charter, with a captain and cook. They ate every delicious meal on board.

Compared with the Heffner party’s complicated journey, Homer’s travels in The Odyssey were a saunter through the park. Bookending their charter trip with a couple of days in St. Thomas on the front end and a four-day stay at the resort on BVI’s Scrub Island on the back—then a return swing through St. Thomas on the way home—the eight intrepid travelers entered and exited the various health and safety portals and protocols via 24 COVID tests (all negative) before all was said and done.

Once aboard their yacht, the group actually quarantined aboard in Anegada for the trip’s first four days, along with their fully vaccinated crew, a married couple from Britain. One of Heffner’s favorite pictures from the charter was when skipper Andy dropped the yellow Q flag and they were all free to roam at will.

“It was a worry-free trip,” Heffner said. “We did every kind of watersport—kayaking, snorkeling—and the captain took the kids out on kneeboards in the dinghy, and they loved that. They really leaned into all the activities. The wildlife we saw was incredible—the turtles, the big tarpon, the dolphins. It was an amazing trip. We’d certainly do it again.”

Rich Sawicz is also up for a return holiday. “Definitely,” he said. “Of course, there’s two sides to the coin: Nobody is going to experience what we did, with so many areas totally to ourselves. But we’ll be back in a heartbeat. I recommend a BVI charter to people all the time. This is the best vacation you could ever imagine.”

The Awakening

All of which brings us to the here and now, the greatly ­anticipated summer of 2021 and that which will follow. Each and every one of us—and each and every business—has lived their own version of the COVID experience. As travel ­restrictions are eased in the US, and daily routines again become, well, routine, there’s a sense of an awakening in everyday life, one that the charter industry hopes to capitalize on.

In that sector, the overall positive vibe, the aura of optimism, is palpable.

The domestic operators want to continue to ride the wave they’ve already hooked onto. “I’ve been doing this for 25 years, playing with these silly catamarans,” Jerman of West Coast Multihulls said. “Finally I’ve lived long enough to see them really dominate the sailing world, and especially the chartering world, where they’ve become fairly dominant and taken over. We’re so excited. We see a lot of growth potential.”

Down at Southwest Florida Yachts, Hansen said: “The interest in sailing is getting stronger. We’re thinking about adding more sailboats. It’s not just younger people either, but middle-aged folks wanting to learn to sail. Business definitely picked up in the last year, and I think [the next year] will be better. I think people are ready to go. Do something.”

The larger companies, of course, aren’t looking to capitalize on bigger pandemic numbers, but rather to almost start fresh in the reopening. To get back to where they were and relaunch from there. And they sure seem prepared to do so.

“What’s great now is that we’re finally feeling like we’re through this,” Navigare’s Rönngard said. “Our second half of 2021, the next six months, is booked at a higher occupancy rate than I’ve ever had before. It’s fantastic. More than ever, people have money. They didn’t spend a lot during the pandemic. My numbers for what’s coming are through the roof. We all feel like [we’re waking up]. I feel it too. You want to throw parties, see your friends. That’s what you’re dying to do. I think people are just fed up, and they are certainly booking an enormous amount of trips.”

“Here in the BVI, fully vaccinated people are basically free to go after a negative test on Day One of their trip,” Horizon’s Thompson said. “That’s a game-changer. As a result, our June and July bookings aren’t a million miles off from a normal year. And December and beyond, when we reopen after hurricane season, is also booking up well. We’re very hopeful.”

“Business started picking up in the latter part of 2020,” Dream’s Minner said. “Now, for the past five months, we’ve been hitting records I’ve never seen. The jump in numbers came fast, and without warning. So we’re seriously trying to hire back sales staff and meet the demand for the inquiries coming in. It’s been quite the roller coaster, quite an adjustment. It’s been a lot, but it’s been good. Everyone’s very happy about getting back to business, selling charters again. That’s what we all do and what we’re here to do.”

“As people get vaccinated, the confidence level is really rising,” said Tucci, of the Moorings. “It’s like a switch got flipped and everybody decided to book their holidays. Stuff is flying off the shelves for next year, and it’s going to surprise some people because they’re possibly thinking that everyone is still waiting to see what happens. But it might be a little tough for anyone who hasn’t booked their vacation yet.”

The positive vibes are encouraging, no question. And the forecasts do seem terrific. But at the end of the day, if the pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that nobody knows what the hell will actually happen moving onward. History is yet to be written. But the cold, hard fact is that history was made in the charter industry in 2020, and despite the strong domestic market, it was largely for all the wrong reasons. And history will again be made, as it always is. This time, fingers crossed, maybe for all the right reasons.

Herb McCormick is CW’s executive editor.

The post The Charter Sailing Industry in 2021 appeared first on Cruising World.