Turks and Caicos Islands.
Swiftwing
Fri 3 Apr 2009 15:41
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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.
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