Our last night in Venezuelan waters was spent in the western most Aves Islands – again more turquoise waters, sandy beaches and coral reefs. (Google Earth reference to look up12º01´.5 North 67 41´.0 West).
We did however, have a heart stopping moment when waving the Sarah Grace crew off after a jolly supper on board Jem, to discover that the dinghy (our family 4 door and lifeline to shore) was no longer bobbing off our stern where it had been tied (I will not lower myself to say by whom). Amazingly, rather than drifting off into the Caribbean Sea (next stop 80 miles away in Bonaire) Alfie , as the dinghy has been named by the next door neighbours, was ‘gently nuzzling’ the coral reef a few hundred yards behind us where our very powerful spot-light managed to pick it out. This was particularly lucky as we had been very careful to anchor in a spot where, should our anchor drag, we would miss the reef – hey ho!
Other than a few scratches to the outboard thankfully Alfie lives to fight another day.
We arrived at ‘Spanish Water’ in southern Curacao, dropped the anchor and spent a happy week with access to European style supermarkets and a population that mostly spoke English which made a nice change.
Apart from the supermarkets, we found Curacao pretty dull and soulless lacking the atmosphere and spirit of the other Caribbean Islands. The capital, Willemstad, is a Unesco ‘World Heritage Site’, I think the Unesco guys must have had their eyes shut as Disneyland probably provides a more realistic tableau of what the Dutch Antilles are really like. However, we did some wonderful snorkelling around a wreck and spotted our first Moray Eel.
So we were not too sad therefore to set sail for Cuba on 12 February particularly as we had decided to break the voyage in Jamaica. Seemed silly to sail past a country without stopping!
We had a ‘brisk and boisterous’ run downwind for 3 days to Port Antonio, Jamaica. We hit 10.5 knots at one stage and broke the Jem record for miles covered in a 24 hour period – it now stands at 198 nautical miles – we shall break the elusive 200 mile mark one day. It was good to be on passage with our friends in Sarah Grace, always comforting to know that there is someone else out there and at the end of a radio if something goes wrong.
Port Antonio was as beautiful as you would expect from the place where Errol Flynn chose to keep his yacht (and own an island in the harbour). Lots of palm trees, sandy beaches all garnished with reggae pumping at full volume 24 hrs a day and strong herbal aroma on the wind that made passive smoking a genuine hazard. It seemed that the ganga consumption was so great and wide spread that it actually chilled everyone to the point that nothing really ever got done.
We foolishly tried to make a small contribution to the local economy by having some canvas spray hoods re sewn. Needless to say the stitching was a complete disaster on account of the deposit ‘paid up front’ to cover materials had been promptly invested in some significant spliffs that brought a creative twist to the straight lines required.
The whole pace of life at the north eastern end of Jamaica was a healthy reminder of what we were trying to achieve so we inevitably stayed much longer than we should have done. We spent a day at an ‘African’ drumming festival, which again seemed an excuse for everyone to smoke more spliffs, we all had to spend the rest of the day resting must have been due to passive smoking! Some great Rasta veggie food was sampled and a competion to spot the longest dreadlocks went on!
Sign seen at Rasta Festival | 
