The Price of Paradise

Leaving Cuba Behind for a Moment

As we cast off our lines from Cayo Largo, our bow pointed south toward Grand Cayman, while Dilly Dally headed toward Cienfuegos, Cuba, where we planned to reunite a few days later.

We knew this passage would likely deliver a healthy serving of rough seas and strong winds, but once again we faced the ongoing challenge of sailing without functioning wind instruments, a situation that, by this point, was driving me completely around the bend.

Little did we know this trip would end up costing us a ball, a boob and probably part of our souls. But when you live and work remotely from a boat, safety and reliable equipment are not optional extras, they are survival tools.

Why Overnight Passages Are the Worst

I have come to the conclusion that single overnights sails are designed specifically to torture human beings. Longer passages of five days or more are actually easier because eventually your body gives up fighting and accepts its strange new reality. You learn to nap during the day, survive on snacks, and function like a semi-conscious sea raccoon.

But overnighters………they suck.

You spend the whole day trying unsuccessfully to sleep because your brain knows you still need to stay awake all night. Then suddenly you realize you’ve basically been awake for twenty/four hours straight and are now making important navigational decisions while hallucinating that the clouds look like the lasagna you feel like.

Engine Drama

While I lay in bed attempting to force my body into some kind of rest, I noticed the wind dropping. Then I heard Eric trying to start the engines. Cough …… splutter ….. silence. Nothing says good times at sea quite like hearing your engines impersonate a dying lawnmower in the middle of the night.

We already knew the starboard engine had an intermittent issue, but until now it had mostly behaved itself. Apparently, however the port engine suffered from severe FOMO and decided to join the dysfunctional party.

At that point I did what any highly skilled sailor would do ….. I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended none of it was happening.

Miraculously, after much muttering and mechanical persuasion, Eric managed to get one engine running and we continued motor-sailing till my shift.

When my watch began, I only used the motors for about twenty minutes before switching them off completely and sailing under wind alone. Thankfully for a couple hours we had beautiful sailing conditions and were making excellent speed. The silence was glorious. No engines, no rattling, just the sound of water moving along the hull and the sails handling the boat with precision. This is the exact reason sailors tolerate all the nonsense in between.

Naturally the peaceful moment was not to last, as my shift neared its end, the wind disappeared again, and it was time to restart the engines.

Surprise…Neither engine would start, just fantastic. Eric heard this and came up to help, once again he managed to coax one engine back to life, although only at low revs. Fortunately, there was still enough wind to keep us moving.

The real concern, however, was now looming ahead us. How exactly where we planning to catch a mooring ball in Grand Cayman with only one engine which is semi dead?

Landfall in Grand Cayman

Thanks to the night’s mechanical circus, neither of us slept much, so we were both awake long before sunrise.

In the distance, we could see the lights of Grand Cayman glowing on the horizon. Despite the exhaustion, we were rewarded with one of those spectacular sunrises that makes you temporarily forget your problems and think things like: “Yes …... this is why we chose this lifestyle

Five minutes later reality returned.

As we approached the mooring field near George Town, Eric needed enough engine power to maneuver us close enough for me to grab a mooring ball.

Naturally this did not go according to plan. With only one vaguely functioning engine, our first attempt turned into what can best be described as a high-speed drive by mooring. We zoomed straight past the ball and nearly got the line around the propeller, which would certainly have added a little disaster to the growing list of onboard entertainment.

I sprinted toward the stern while Eric wrestled the boat into some kind of controlled chaos. Together we somehow managed to grab the mooring line before it wrapped in the prop.

This was also the exact moment that Eric discovered that mooring balls are not, in fact, lightweight floating marshmallows. They are ridiculously heavy. Meanwhile there was no one at the helm …. Oops, somehow with teamwork, we secured ourselves safely to the mooring ball.

Customs 

After several hours of waiting, customs and immigration finally arrived. What followed was one of the most detailed boat inspections we have ever experienced. Every drawer was opened, and I mean every drawer. Nothing quite humbles you like a customs officer aggressively inspecting your slightly chaotic collection of boat underwear while asking if you have any stowaways onboard.

I assume arriving from Cuba raises a few extra eyebrows.

Once we finally cleared in, we moved around to the other side of the island and found a surprisingly affordable marina, Camana Bay Marina. At around $30 per day, including water and electricity, it felt practically free by Caribbean standards.

After the stress of the passage and engine drama, it was also wonderful to reconnect with sailing friends already staying there. Nothing improves morale quite like sharing boat disasters with people who immediately respond with, “Oh yes we had that happen too” and are able to offer useful advice or tools.

When it Rains it Pours

By day two, Eric’s laptop crashed, not long after, mine followed. At this point I genuinely started wondering whether we had sailed through some kind of floating electronics graveyard.

We had planned to replace our laptops in September when we got to Australia, where electronics are significantly cheaper and we can get the tax back, but as digital nomads we had absolutely no choice but to buy new ones immediately.

Still, we were incredibly lucky to be in Cayman. Had this happened in Cuba, we would have been in serious trouble and completely unable to work.

Eric managed to repair one of the engines himself using spare parts onboard, which meant only the port engine required professional attention.

I must say, my husband has developed some seriously impressive mechanical skills. Oh and plumbing and electrical at this stage he is basically one YouTube tutorial away from becoming a fully certified marine engineer………..

Boat Life is Not what you see on Instagram

One thing most people probably do not realize is that we literally sleep on top of our diesel tank. Romantic – No

Nothing says “Living the Dream” quite like falling asleep inches above several hundred liters of fuel.

To inspect the diesel and make sure it was clean, we had to remove the mattress and dismantle half the cabin, which naturally spiraled into a full cleaning session, because once you start moving boat cushions, there is no turning back.

By now the expense list was growing faster than our patience, we were seriously coming to Grand Cayman for just some fresh produce and diesel.

·      Engine repairs

·      Fire extinguishers needed replacing

·      2 New Laptops

·      Huge diesel purchase

·      LPG gas refills

·      Raymarine chart plotter paid for basic checks that could not be repaired

·      Food stock replenished

Oh, and let’s not forget that one of our water maker membranes also decided to join the shit show and somehow exploded grrrrrrr what more……This caused real panic as that means we would not be able to leave Cayman until that was solved. Not being able to make water was a showstopper for me.

Once again thanks to the wisdom of having sailor friends that are always willing to offer advice from their own experiences, we learnt that we could remove one of the three membranes and two would function just fine, although we would make less water per hour, but we could live with that.

A Taste of Civilization

Despite all the stress, Cayman gave us something we had been missing, fresh produce, reliable supplies and supermarkets that actually had food on the shelves.

We wandered around Kirk Market like two dehydrated survivors emerging from the wilderness, I swear I nearly became emotional in the vegetable section.

After the provisioning struggles in Cuba, seeing fully stocked shelves felt like entering the pearly gates, although the prices sent me right back to the black pearl.

Despite all the drama, unexpected expenses, and mechanical meltdowns, we still managed to enjoy some genuinely good times in Cayman. There was lazy afternoon with sailing friends. Several excellent meals.

The time had come for us to cast off and head back to our buddy boat in Cienfuegos, Cuba.

Here we go………. let’s do that one night passage again.