Sunday we cheated death, yet again!
With a little help from the universe via St. Croix friends and samaritans.
We’d been planning this Sunday kayak trip to Buck Island with fellow St. Croix Yacht Club members for the past week or so. The weather had been a bit iffy. Huge swells and surge from Hurricane Igor rolled in on Friday afternoon, wreaking havoc at some beach-front hotels and sucking a teen swimmer out to sea from the north shore. But by Sunday it had calmed down. There was very little wind, long low swells, the water looked like Lake St. Croix.
Only one other person showed up to join us at the yacht club, our new friend Gerri, who was borrowing a seat on one of our tandems, while her husband stayed behind to race in the One Design series at the club. It was her first time kayaking. We have Hobie Mirage pedal kayaks, comfortable and easy. We told her not to worry.
The pedal out was smooth and uneventful, the easiest trip we’ve ever made to Buck by kayak. There were a few clouds out over the east end of St. Croix, but the weather was still coming in from the southwest, thanks to Igor, so they were heading northeast away from us. After we’d puttered around on the southeast turtle beach for a bit, the clouds started looking more ominous and coming more from the south. We took stock of the boats at anchor to see if we could hitch a ride back.
Carsten (Pookie) and Amanda (Marvela) were out on Cruzan Time, newly acquired with their friends and partners, Dan and Rachel. I swam out to say hello and bum a ride and kayak tow back to St. Croix marine, if the weather didn’t clear up. While I was there a squall came through, so I sat it out under the bimini. Terry and Gerri took shelter behind an over-turned picnic table, together with a few other exposed beach-combers. I swam back to shore and we packed and loaded the kayaks in the lull between squalls. It didn’t look like it was going to clear up too soon, so we kayaked out to Cruzan Time while it was still calm.
In hindsight, maybe we should have waited a little longer. The wind and waves picked up as we were trying to tie up two kayaks to the back of the Cal-27. By the time I was on board, the little boat was bucking and swaying. And we noticed the large tender (longer than our sailboat), tied behind the 96ft yacht Serenity Now was swinging dangerously close to our bow. It appeared the yacht was dragging anchor and nobody was paying attention to the 35-40ft powerboat they had tied to their stern. About the same time, we realized Cruzan Time was dragging anchor and swinging wildly in the wind and swells toward another sailing yacht behind us.
Carsten started the outboard and tried to get us back over our anchor, but the SW wind gusts and swells were too strong and we were overloaded with seven people and two kayaks adding extra drag. We couldn’t get the anchor up and we couldn’t get over it. With each swell we were lurching 6-8 ft closer to the yacht off our stern. On captains orders, we let the kayaks go. Dan was still trying to fend them off the starboard stern and keep them from fouling the outboard. I lent a hand and helped him loose and set adrift our two kayaks, complete with pedals, paddles, and dry bags filled with assorted essentials like car keys, cell-phones, wallets, IDs, passports, credit cards and cash.
We hauled up the headsail, no time to try to reef the main, but still couldn’t get enough headway to get over the anchor enough to haul it in. Finally, we cut the anchor line, were able to get clear of the other yacht. Although it didn’t seem so at the time, the universe smiled on us and the kayaks drifted straight to the boat astern. Relieved that we weren’t going to bash their bow to bits, they were able to snag them and gave us a thumbs up.
But not all was clear, we were heading for the reef NW of Buck in gale-force winds. Our first attempt to tack away from the reef was fouled and aborted. We regained our NW tack, took a very short breather to steady our nerves, and tried it again, before we dashed ourselves on the reef. The second attempt was better. We were now headed SE, passing Buck on our port side. Winds were still too strong from the WSW to make much headway West toward Christiansted Harbor and St. Croix Marine, Cruzan Time‘s home port. We couldn’t even stay low enough to make the cut into the reef toward the yacht club. Once closer to and a little in lee of the Big Island, the seas smoothed a little and after a next tack we were able to make some headway west. But it was slow going and we were headed back into the force of the storm.
We discussed a few possibilities, eke out slow headway against the squall toward C’sted, get inside the reef and run for the yacht club, try to make Green Cay marina and shelter there. We settled on getting far enough west to get into the reef safely, tie up to Big Beards mooring at Coakley Bay and wait it out. It took a few more tacks out into the more fierce weather before we could make the reef marker by Carden Beach. As we neared, we couldn’t spot the mooring ball we sought (or any for that matter), but inside the reef, closer to shore, the winds and surf were considerably calmer. We reverted to plan B and ran down wind to the yacht club. It was a leisurely cruise compared to a few minutes before.
All told, everyone remained pretty calm. Carsten and Amanda handled Cruzan Time like pros. You’d never know it was their second time out in her. Dan and Rachel soothed Terry and kept her from throwing herself into the sea (Terry doesn’t like stressful sailing). Gerri jumped right in with her sailing experience and assisted with tacking and knowledge of the waters. I did my best to stay out of the way, move my weight to the high side, lend a hand here and there, and scan the water for markers and reef.
At the club we were met by the tender, borrowed a mooring, and calmed frayed nerves with a few adult beverages. Thank God I decided to leave a chit at the club bar that morning, rather than walking with it as usual. We pondered various options for trying to recover our lost goods. The only key to the Land Rover was strapped to a kayak, so we had to bum a ride. Just as I was walking out the door, I was called back to the bar. A phone call. Marlene from RAVI had tracked me down. She and her husband Jim have Amicus, the sailing yacht we almost drifted into. She had recognized me on the beach (or the boat) and they had kept an eye on us until we headed east toward the club. They had our kayaks and our stuff and were waiting for us on the boardwalk in Christiansted.
Gerri gave us a ride home and waited to confirm we had a spare key to the Tracker. We met up with Marlene and Jim, and Bill and Cindy, aboard Amicus, shared beer and Cosmos on the dock and recounted our adventures. Yesterday morning we retrieved the kayaks from St. Croix Marina. Everything accounted for, even Gerri’s hat and Dan’s silly glasses, that I scooped from the water and threw into the kayak as I had bobbed in the surf trying to tie it to Cruzan Time. They both made the trip back on the seat of a kayak bouncing in the storm.
I’d share pictures, but my camera and cell phone were both in a pouch, in a dry bag, strapped to a kayak I cut loose at Buck Island. You’ll have to settle for one of this fellow survivor, who took shelter from the storm in an equally unlikely place.
sounds like a plan. The snorkeling right off shore straight out from the sea wall is usually spectacular. We’d snorkel for a good long time – at least an hour- if the visibility was good. Then, time to relax on the beach and read a chapter of whatever book we’re currently into.
