Turks and Caicos Islands.

Swiftwing
Fri 3 Apr 2009 15:41
Sapodilla Bay, Providenciales, Turks and Caicos.    21:44.57 N    72:17.28 W
 
 
We left Puerto Rico at 0800 on Sunday 22nd March for the 370 mile crossing to the Turks and Caicos Islands. We crossed the sixty mile wide, 'Mona Passage' in a nice Northerly breeze and sailed all night in ten knots of wind  which had come slightly round to the North West, causing us to put in a fifteen mile tack out from the north coast of the Dominican Republic (Hispaniola), in the early hours of the morning. On the way through the passage, three Hump Back whales surfaced just yards  behind us before carrying on their way North. They breed on the shallow reefs in this area, liking the shallow warm water of the Silver  and the Mouchoir Banks, effectively limestone and coral reefs roughly sixty miles in diameter and very shallow.  Second day out the wind came round slightly to the NNE and started to blow 25 knots, which it continued to do until the early evening, when it strengthened again to 25 - 30 knots. By this stage there was no blue sky and ahead  lay 'Harry Potteresque' black cloud which reached the surface of the sea like a black blanket. We entered this with two reefs in the main and the staysail only and managed to keep the boat down to speeds of between 6.5 and 7.7 knots. Not very comfortable in seas that were at least twelve feet high and steepening with the wind, though we seemed to miss most of the rain.  An uncomfortable night was had by both of us and by 0400 the next morning the wind and seas had eased considerably and freed off to the East and the blanket of black cloud had gone.  About 0600 we rounded the South West tail of Silver Bank, shook out the reefs, unrolled the jib and put up the mizzen for a lovely sunny sail with ten to twelve knots on the quarter. At midnight in a freshening North Easterly and a pitch black moonless night, we dropped the hook on Big Sand Cay, a small sandy spit of land one mile long which is to the  extreme South East of the T&K group. We spent a relatively sheltered night there before making our way to Cockburn, South Caicos, our port of entry.
 
The entrance into the Caicos Bank, a body of white limestone reef some sixty miles across in a generally  oval shape,  lying North to South  and only fifteen feet at it's deepest,  is a fantastic experience. In the space of one hundred yards we had sailed from water that is eight thousand feet deep to only eight feet deep in the anchorage. The colours of the white sandy beaches and the very light turquoise waters are like no other island group we've so far visited. The water is so clear that we could easily see the anchor digging in to the sand and the chain falling away from the bow. For as far as the eye could see to the south and east the light green sea turned to white where it became indistinguishable from the sand banks.  Look it up on Google Earth, you'll be amazed by the colours.
 
The Turks and Caicos Islands so called because the national plant , a cactus that looks like a Turkish Fez when it flowers  and the Caicos no-one is quite sure but may be part Spanish, part Arawak, were discovered for Europe in 1512 by Admiral Juan Ponce de Leon. They are British, are full dependants of the UK and have just lost the right to self rule as a result of corruption at the highest levels of government. Now there's a thing!! Their government has resigned/sacked and they are currently being ruled, so we believe, from Whitehall.   On top of that, the islands suffered two devastating hurricanes during the summer of 2008 and are still trying to rebuild.  Grand Turk, which we did not visit, has 90% damage and  still has no power; those that lost their homes are now living in tents. There are currently large teams of Brits out here trying to repair the damage.
 
We dinghied ashore at Cockburn to clear Immigration and Customs. We tied up to a crumbling pier and made our way past the fish plant which is the main employer, and along the main street. Damage was clear all around with many of the houses having tarpaulins over the bare roof beams where the corrugated iron sheets had been. In some places only a concrete foundation or floor was left where the wooden structure it supported had been blown away or dismantled by the wind,  piece by piece.  The old colonial buildings, warehouses and government offices stood untouched and the Customs House was a prime example. A beautiful old stone structure with the tax office below and the Customs in the garret, or roof space as it is trendily called nowadays. The roof was constructed of colossal beams and was fully covered by ancient hardwood planks. It had the feeling that it had been there for two hundred years and would easily last another two hundred.  I could imagine the captains of 18th century sailing ships standing at the same counter. On the walls were the ancient photographs of the Queen and Prince Philip when they were about forty and one of Prince Charles when he was about eighteen. The whole place had the wonderful aura of colonial  purpose and efficiency in the middle of chaos.
The second day there we came ashore and walked to the highest point to look at the views. The sea and extensive sandy beaches stretched for as far as the eye could sea and looked like the western idea of paradise, crystal clear turquoise water and snow white sandy beaches. However, the main village of Cockburn, population 1,000, is little more than a shanty town that clearly no-one has any pride in.  Bev said that it reminded her of South Uist with sunshine. The fact that the whole community depends completely on the success or failure of a broken down old fish processing plant gave the place an air of fragility, it could easily become a ghost town like some of the other islands, where the population has abandoned it's traditional home in search of hotel work and the tourist dollar. Despite the stunning beauty of the surrounding area, and it is truly beautiful, we were not impressed by South Caicos.
 
The next couple of days would involve sailing over the Caicos Bank which I mentioned earlier, and is at best fifteen feet deep in places and at worst a couple of inches. The charts mention "eyeball navigation" which must be carried out at the height of the day with the sun high and preferably behind you to negotiate the thousands of coral heads that are prolific all over the bank. The bank can not be crossed at night as navigation is impossible in the dark and if caught out by poor light or darkness you must anchor where you are. There are various recognised routes over the bank but they again are littered with coral heads and one can not take a straight course across. Rather concerned about putting 'Swiftwing' at risk, I had more or less decided to go back out to deep water and sail the roundabout route to Providenciales overnight, however, before making the final decision we decided to visit a Canadian couple in a fifty foot catamaran alongside us to find out how they had faired. The owner told us that it was quite hard to see some of the coral heads and that he had put his boat up on one causing quite a bit of damage to one of the hulls. That more or less made my mind up until an Austrian couple came to visit who said that they had traversed the bank many times and that it was no problem,as long as you avoided the heads. They said that it was easy to spot the heads as they were black coral and showed up quite distinctly in the light turquoise water.
 
We set off the next morning to be at the entrance by 10 am with the sun high in the sky behind us. For the first crossing we motored and were no sooner onto the bank when we were swerving left and right to avoid the black coral heads, though on average we would only meet one in our path every half mile or so, but sometimes meeting a string  of them across our path which looked impassable from a distance. After twenty miles or so the frequency of the heads died off so that by the time we got to our destination for the night, French Cay, we were only meeting them every couple of miles. However it is quite nerve wracking travelling for forty five miles in water no deeper that twelve feet and at worst eight feet (this is the deep water channel). Again the transit from eight feet of water to eight thousand feet of water was no more than one hundred yards with the boundary showing a sharp deep azure blue edge with the light green of the bank inside.
 
Next day we were a little braver and sailed across the next section of bank to Sapodilla Bay, Providenciales, which is a lovely little moon shaped bay with sparkling white sand and tastefully designed millionaires homes. We were anchored three hundred yards out and were in eight feet of water. We dinghied ashore and went swimming off the beach both days that we were there.
 
In need of some fresh fruit and vegetables and an ATM, we went ashore early the next day to get the bus into Provo Town. Another couple from a 65' silver painted catamaran called 'Looking for Elvis' came ashore just behind us and I gave them a wave. We were, less than a minute later, walking up the sandy track  when they pulled alongside us in a car and the guy said, "Hi Dougie, do you want a lift". It turned out to be Terry Rowlans from Cushendall, I know his father Tom and have sailed against them both for years. Terry, the professional skipper of 'Elvis' was on his way to the airport to fly home for Willie Connon's son's wedding before he starts a new skippering job in Newport, Rhode Island.  How small a world is that!  He knew Smokey Bear very well and hadn't realized that we were cruising in Swiftwing. A very pleasant journey  was had to Provo with  a lot of catching up being done.  When he dropped us off, I asked him to tell all the people in Cushendall Boating Club that we were asking for them.
 
Providenciales is described in the cruising guide( published 2004) as having pristine waters and brilliant beaches but the island itself is a huge building site, and nothing has changed since the guide was published. The whole place seems to be in a state of development with  building plots starting at half a million dollars for a four acre building plot and dream homes with infinity swimming pools at a couple of million. The main road is  The Leeward Highway, a motorway that runs the length of Provo with various American style malls on either side, miles apart. There is no town centre and it is almost impossible to get about without a car. The place was completely without character or soul. We got our fresh produce from an American style supermarket, no local markets here, phoned home on Skype, had a businessmans lunch in the Chinese and made our way back to South Dock to clear out of Customs and Immigration for our next passage, an overnighter to the Bahamas. We found the local village there, a shanty town in the shadow and dust of the dock with many new vehicles parked outside wooden houses  you wouldn't keep your lawn mower in. Why do people put more store by the car they drive than the house they live in? I've seen this at home too. 
 
We left the Turks and Caicos on April 1st to sail the 127 miles,  overnight to Acklins Island, the first of the Bahamas. I'll post photos when we can next get a WiFi connection but at the moment we are using our satellite connection for internet which is too slow for photos.