You really don’t need very much to get started, and a lot of what you choose will be personal preference—and these preferences will be honed over time as you paint. I started painting again while spending the summer on a remote island off the coast of Maine. We were living in a one room rustic cabin with our sailboat moored out front, and I started ordering art supplies like a crazy person.
If you follow me on instagram, you may have seen in my stories where I answered a question about commission work in acrylic vs oil paint. It was a short little video, but I received a lot of responses and additional questions afterwards. And, lo and behold, I have a lot more to say about this subject ;)
For starters, though, I want to be clear that it is very difficult to distinguish between finished oil and acrylic paintings. They look very similar. The choice of medium, to me, is more of a choice for the artist rather than the collector. Unless of course the collector is a fan of the classic “fine art” designation that comes with oil paint.
I have a tendency to pick up books- at marinas, hotels, and little free libraries whenever I see them. Basically anywhere that books are free for the taking, I take one or three. I also then leave my books that I’ve finished. I was looking back on 2019, after seeing so many people sharing their reading lists, and I had NO IDEA what books I had read. I knew I had probably read so many great ones, but they weren’t all neatly listed in my kindle app. It kind of bummed me out that I had already forgotten so many stories.
In 2020 I decided to look back month by month, so that I don’t lose track. While I try to read “real” paper books as much as possible—so my children see me reading—I also make great use of the kindle app on my iphone and I listen to a lot of books on audible as well. So, clearly, I read a lot. Even as a single mom to 3 little boys, building and running my own small business, I somehow fit a lot of reading into the cracks in my day.
I began painting again just one year ago, after a decade away. It began on our kitchen table in Maine, where I shoved everything else aside and just started. The voice in my head telling me to paint had suddenly become louder and more insistent than the one detailing every reason why it wouldn’t work. I also started sharing it, even though it admittedly wasn’t very good. It was part of the process, and part of holding myself to the plan, and I made myself do it so I could document the evolution.
As a parent, I quickly recognized what a wonderful tool of coordination and creativity a skateboard could be. It is free play at its finest, starting with when a baby first begins crawling. Both of my boys began with simply pushing and pulling a board around on the floor, which escalated to doing simple little standing tricks on them while watching TV or hanging out. We pretty much always have one or two skateboards on our living room floor. They are also great--and safe--fun in the grass.
I pretty much always have a skateboard or two in my car and underneath the stroller...just in case. Skateboarding is all about figuring it out yourself, and working with your body to make it happen--coordination and balance practice that is perfect for little bodies.
Sailing…just the word evokes images of balmy days, gentle breezes, sunshine and rum drinks. An adventure on the horizon. Hammocks swaying on the bow at anchor in a beautiful cove. But what does one do when “sailing” means sailing with toddlers? Is it possible to keep reality somewhat close to the dream? With a little planning, luck and selective hearing, the answer is: sometimes, my friends, sometimes. We have two toddlers on board, and I will share a few of the tricks that have kept us sane and actually having fun these last few years.
When I say we are sailing with 4 kids and a dog, the first question people ask is almost always about the boat. "What kind of boat?" Some of course cut right to the chase--"How big is your boat?" "How do you all fit?" And often just the skeptical "How's that working out for you?"
We didn't have the longest list of criteria when boat shopping, but we did have a few key needs. Our first debate centered around "for how long is this boat going to be right for us?" In other words--was this going to be our boat that would take us across oceans, or just our interim, coastal cruising boat. The budget of course differed depending on whether this was a boat we were going to try to sell at one point, versus a boat we would invest ourselves in completely. We looked at many boats, from Hylas to Tartan, to Morris and Hinckley. Eventually we decided to go all in. (If you know us, you probably got a chuckle at that…we are pretty much ALL IN all the time, no matter what it is. Even I’m laughing.) At the top of the list was that it be a boat we could love for the next 20 years. This means it needed to be blue water capable since our eventual plans involve many ocean crossings, and our immediate plans involved off-shore deliveries between New England and the Caribbean. After a lot of looking we agreed that an older, heavier boat was what we wanted.
That said, we wanted something with enough upgrades that it could feasibly be sailed single-handed, or with minimal help. Any parents of small children will understand why this was necessary. At the time of purchase we had an 18 month old and another on the way, so we knew that our days of having two adult sailors with four free hands were far off. We also had an 8 year old boy and a 10 year old girl--the salient issue here being that, while we still sometimes found them squeezed into the same twin bunk, we knew the day would soon arrive when they would need their own space.
The first boat we looked at was a lovely Tartan 44. The second was a newer 54 ft Hylas. Also lovely, but twice what we could afford. And neither one felt like THE ONE. Our broker, whose offices are at Hinckley in Portsmouth, RI, then told us about a Little Harbor he had in heated storage, and that he thought we should take a look at. Its older and very wealthy owner moved inland to Colorado. He was no longer interested in sailing her but neither was he a terribly motivated seller. He was asking double our budget, but our broker felt that the price could be negotiated way down. She was in the far back corner of a barn at Hinckley, draped in plastic which was in turn covered in dust. But our first look at her massive beam told us she certainly checked off the blue-water capabilities we had on our list. We then rolled back some of the plastic and climbed aboard, looking through the dusty dark with flashlights since her dead batteries left all the lights out. We could see that she was in serious need of some TLC, but also could immediately see her potential.
Our broker told us that he had sold more Little Harbors than ever after showing clients this particular boat. She was great enough to set the hook but the interested parties usually went with less of a project. Due to her unique layout of two forward cabins with bunks, a v-berth devoted to storage, and an aft cabin set up for off-shore conditions (a double to starboard and a twin to port so that the captain can sleep on either side depending on the tack), most people chose a different Little Harbor with a "more comfortable" (i.e. King bed and crew quarters) design.
Of course we saw a boat with 4 bunks and quickly saw our wildest dreams come true. A bed for each kid! Of course, one does not buy a boat, especially not of this caliber, based on kid bunk space. So we kept looking deeper to see if our initial gut reaction was correct. We also immediately loved her story. A Ted Hood-designed Little Harbor from 1986, she was the Little Harbor 53' that he designed specifically for himself. Between him and his brother, the Hood family owned her for 15 years. We found countless old charts with his notations on them, and a pair of his old ray ban aviators. These all felt like important "signs"! But first, on to the important issues--the ones that cost money.
All the hatches were heat-damaged and needed replacing, new life lines were needed due to crevasse corrosion at the stanchions, all new varnish was in order, decks needed sprucing up, a new hot water heater element was required, she new batteries, the centerboard had to be rebuilt, all new safety equipment had to be added, plus new lines. And of course, a new bimini and cushions. We made our offer--at barely over half of the asking price, and held firm through negotiations. The seller finally got tired of us, and convinced at last that he would have her sitting there another 7 years if he didn't just let her go now. We signed the P&S on Jonathan's 40th birthday from the beach in Miami! We then requisitioned the help of local Rhode Island surveyor, Jim Hilton, to start surveying both on the hard and eventually at sea trial. Luckily our P&S said the seller had to commission boat and make sure all the systems were operational. This one sentence saved us almost $50k. Cleaning her out, we filled an entire dumpster with the trash from someone else's adventures, including a bag of milano cookies, 7 years expired.
We named her "Robin Hood" in honor of Ted Hood, who had recently passed away, and our broker's partner who is Ted Hood, jr. (All of Ted's boats were named "Robin"). In most harbors we will have one or two visitors stopping by to ask if we are part of the Hood family, or asking if this was Ted's boat. He was not only famous, but loved by many. In the past 4 years we have sailed her from Rhode Island to Maine and back many times. From Boston to Bermuda and down to the Caribbean, and back to Maine again. She sailed in the inaugural Miami to Havana regatta, the first regatta from Miami to Cuba in 60 years. This winter, we made our first family trip offshore, sailing her from her new home on Vinalhaven Island, Maine to the Bahamas. I get a little choked up writing this, it feels a little like writing about one of my children. I envision so many years of wonderful times with our actual children aboard this boat.
To go through everything we have done since then will require another post. We have replaced all major systems except the engine. Soon we will be able to start on interior cosmetic issues like the cushions, the curtains which are still circa 1986, and the countertops in the galley and heads that no amount of scrubbing can clean. But for the past 4 years Robin Hood has served us well. We have had hours, weeks, months of memories made on her, and we know without a doubt that our initial gut feeling was correct.
Swap River and Van out for me and Jonathan, and you’ll be able to picture how our sailing dreams began—paddle boarding around Nantucket harbor, hanging on other people’s mooring lines and dreaming of one day owning a sailboat!!
Robin Hood in Polly Cove, Vinalhaven ,Maine. She sailed these waters in her earlier years with designed and original owner Ted Hood, and now they are her home waters :)
Sailing out of Boothbay Harbor in the Summer of 2017
We recently uncovered an old abandoned sailboat on our new property in Maine. Named Polly presumably after the cove where we live, she is a cute 15-foot Sirocco (we hadn’t heard of it either). The former owner of the property bought her at the Detroit Boat Show in 1977, then brought her to Maine and first launched her in the cove in 1988. We cut our way through a forest of ferns one day and found that she had most of what she needed, lacking a little TLC. For the next few weeks, our kids would call out “Hi Polly!!” every time we passed her on the drive. This past weekend, we finally got motivated and loaded her onto a new trailer and launched her into Polly Cove. We had a few boats rafted up together out in the cove, celebrating the gorgeous July 4th weekend. We tied Polly alongside and got to work getting her cleaned out and rigged. Late that afternoon we took her for an inaugural sail around the larger Carver Cove. Her centerboard cable is frayed and not working so we did slide a bit over the water trying to get back to the boat party, but it was exhilarating! We were really sailing!!! There is something about a tiller, a small boat, and the immediacy of each sail adjustment and shift. It brought back to mind the months we spent on our first boat, a beautiful J-100 named Ayuni.
Ayuni was our entry into sailboat ownership and we sailed her every day from the day we bought her and she arrived from Southwest Harbor, ME to Lake Champlain, to the day we sold her on Martha’s Vineyard. At the time, we had three kids one of whom was only 7 months old, and a giant dog who weighed in at 140 lbs. Ayuni was all beauty, and not a lot of familial practicality. Never mind lifeline netting, there weren’t even lifelines!!! Needless to say, we got a lot of funny looks as we zipped around Lake Champlain. My husband, Jonathan, of course thought they were admiring her speed and beautiful lines, but I’m pretty sure they were debating just what kind of crazy we were. Built for speed, she had a small and narrow salon with two benches that an adult could just barely stretch out on, and a v-berth up front with a small sink and a head that I tried to keep the kids off of…this boat was just too small for some smells.
Jonathan and I had talked about sailing for several years, ever since an ill-fated attempt on his part to take me house-hunting on Nantucket. I yawned my way through it in the backseat of the realtor’s car while he—embarrassed by my lack of interest—demanded what was wrong with me. Who in her right mind, he demanded, does not want a house on Nantucket?? I shrugged and said a boat sounded better—then we could simply go to a new island when we got bored. And so our sailboat dreams were hatched. Fast-forward several years and my husband came down with a serious and sudden illness that put him in the hospital for 8 days, while every manner of medical professional failed to diagnose him. When an infectious disease specialist at the third hospital finally diagnosed a potentially lethal combination of Lyme and Coxsackie B, he started a long road to recovery. He was still on a rough cocktail of pain meds when he went online and bought Ayuni. He could not believe that he had almost died without ever embarking on our sailing adventures.
We sailed that boat every day all over Lake Champlain and spent many wonderful nights “camping” in her v-berth while anchored in some of the Lake’s beautiful coves. We swore we had found the perfect boat for our family, for “at least the next 10 years”. We thought we would spend a good three of those years sailing on and exploring Lake Champlain. (Anyone who knows us is laughing by now). Roughly 6 weeks after her arrival in Vermont, we stepped the mast and started a 10-day journey across the lake, down the Hudson River and through the locks to New York City. Our older two kids, then 9 and 7, spent their first night ever in NYC sleeping under the stars in Ayuni’s cockpit. From there, we sailed up the coast stopping in Old Saybrook, CT, Greenwich, CT, Fisher Island, Block Island, and Martha’s Vineyard before reaching Nantucket. We then spent a month “camping” on Ayuni in beautiful Nantucket Harbor. This was enough to convince us that we never wanted the sailing trip to end. Ayuni was too small to reasonably take south to the more tropical islands, so we found a buyer on the Vineyard and sold her in early October for about $1,000 more than we spent on her just 3 months earlier. (Yes, I’m still rather proud of that feat)!!
Our next boat was our current love—a 53-foot Little Harbor that we named Robin Hood. Sailing a bigger boat takes one away from the nitty gritty—and also a lot of the joy and fun—of actually sailing. I wouldn’t trade Robin Hood for the world, but spending an hour zipping around on Polly this past weekend reminded us of how much fun we had on Ayuni. Of how we would “race” the bigger boats, flying alongside them until they deigned to notice us and usually left us in their wake. The response of the tiller, the closeness of the sails, the challenge of sailing on and off one’s mooring, the water rippling right underneath…there will be many a glorious afternoon spent this summer on Polly in Polly’s Cove, zigging and zagging around Robin Hood on her mooring. All thanks to George Waldman and the free-to-us boat purchased in Detroit back in 1977.
You don’t even need a sail or a motor…anything that gets you on the water is a WIN
North Haven Dinghies racing in Seal Cove
More North Haven Dinghies….lucky shot by Jonathan while I raced in our neighbor’s boat. Which really meant we talked history for 3 hours and got soaked in freezing water. It was awesome.
Our original sailing set-up!! On board Ayuni, our J100, with baby River fitting perfectly in the cockpit with his pack n play!
Polly, the 1978 Siroco 15 that we found in the woods of our Maine property. Going in the water for the first time in 20 years
Cleaning his Opti…small boats are AMAZING for getting kids involved
Your home: I have to start out with this one, because to me, Martha’s Vineyard is an island that is all about fresh, beautiful ingredients, and cooking them to enjoy at a beautiful home with friends and family. That was my first experience of the Vineyard, although at 25 I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Now as a mom to three small children, I love the laid-back cook-and-be-outside vibe here. There is no better way to enjoy all the Vineyard’s amazing farms and ingredients—there are so many places to shop but check out my favorites here. Now, read on for the restaurants to try for when cooking is just not in the cards! Because, to be perfectly honest….we eat out. A LOT! And there are so many great options here these days:
The Port Hunter 508-627-7747 Delicious Coastal American cuisine with a big fun bar and really great local art on the walls
The Covington 508-627-7678 Same owners as the above, same great vibes—more local and vegan options
Alchemy 508-627-9999 American Cuisine, decorated with art by my fave Vineyard artist Terry Crimmen
The Harbor View 508-939-3150 Huge historic inn overlooking Edgartown Lighthouse and harbor. Lots of food options, and big beautiful porch to wait on
La Soffitta 508-647-9448 Amazing Italian in a cozy atmosphere in Vineyard Haven. Great wine list!
Waterside Market 508-693-8899 Same owners as above, casual breakfast and lunch options with awesome baked goods
Little House Cafe 508-687-9794 A truly cute little house with a really good varied and evolving menu, also good vegan options and baked goods
Beach Road 508-693-8582 We love to come here for oysters, my favorite food on the island, and the gorgeous view of the Lagoon
State Road 508-693-8582 Same owners as above, more meat-centric. Great Sunday brunch with tons of gorgeous baked goods
Food Truck 508-560-5883 The food truck is amazing!!! Call them for current locations. They have such good food and great vegan options including a falafel and the impossible burger
Larsons Fish Market 508-645-2680 A Menemsha favorite. Grab a lobster roll and watch the sunset or bring home scallops, clams and locally caught fish to cook up yourself
Menemsha Fish Market 508-645-2282 Same as above—the two are basically interchangeable, they are both awesome. Fresh locally caught seafood right off the boat.
The Homeport 508-645-2679 A Local standby since 1930. Casual Menemsha dining, great with kids before hitting the beach for sunset
Lucky Hank’s 508-939-4082 Edgartown American cuisine with a good evolving menu. Great brunch!
Rosewater Cafe and Market 508-627-1270 Awesome food for breakfast and lunch plus a really cool market with fun shopping. Pick up everything you need for a delicious and stylish picnic on Chappy.
Espresso Love 508-627-9211 My favorite coffee on island because they always have some VEGAN BAKED GOODS!!
Bangkok Cuisine 508-696-6322 Awesome Thai food on Circuit Ave
Dilly’s Taqueria 508-687-9171 My FAVORITE mexican food anywhere. So many amazing options, vegan included. Love love love!
Barn n Bowl 508-696-9800 For rainy days when you need really good food AND a fun activity, the Barn n Bowl in OB has great menu options, lots of beers on tap and, obviously, fun bowling as well
Not Your Sugar Mama’s 508-338-2018 The only FULLY VEGAN one-stop-shop on island. Full menu of made-to-order items, drinks, desserts, and ready-made items to take away.
Rocco’s Pizza 508-693-1125 Delicious thin crust Italian-style pizza. My favorite
Wolf Den Pizza 508-687-9112 Equally delicious, more Greek-style pizza…my boys’ favorite
Copper Wok 508-693-3416 Pan-Asian with a full bar and sushi.
Among the Flowers 508-627-3233 The best brunch anywhere, while you sit, literally, among a lot of flowers
What about you? Do you have a favorite to add to this list? Comment below or message me so I can add it to the list!!
Playing Backgammon at a favorite local cafe, on our favorite board purchased at beautifully curated Vineyard Haven shop, Lennox and Harvey
Oh, the cape and islands. Once a small town centered around the whaling industry, then sleepy fishing villages, Martha’s Vineyard today may as well be the center of the universe come late July. Fifteen years ago, when I first came to the Vineyard, I remember learning that if you visited in September or October, you were part of the secret in-crowd who knew that the fall was the perfect time to visit. Fewer crowds, beautiful weather. You almost had the place to yourselves.
Today, of course, fall on the Vineyard is a well-known event. 2019, however, has been my first spring on the island, and it is glorious. Granted, you may get some rain. But if you plan it right, then you will be treated to glorious weather with nary a tourist in sight. Read on for the top five reasons why spring is the new island fall.
Glorious island drives without the traffic. Any Vineyarder knows that, come summer, a simple drive from Vineyard Haven to Edgartown is anything but. Better plan a good playlist and bring your A-game in patience because you’ve got a slow drive ahead of you! In the spring you can cruise the entire island with no hangups aside from your typical sunday drivers. Island drives are one of my absolute favorite things to do, and we often cruise around checking the different beaches and stopping here and there for snacks or a quick exploration.
ALL. THE. BEACHES. In the off season, no one really cares if you are on a private beach or not. No one is here yet to care. If you’ve never seen the majestic clay cliffs at Lucy Vincent, or hunted for marbles on marble beach, now is your chance. If you are really brave, throw on a 5 mil and try your luck surfing squibnocket. Rent a jeep with a beach sticker and go have a bonfire out on Chappy. Bonfires are also better in the cool spring air.
The shops are back open and you get first dibs! I personally love Slate in Edgartown. The owner is lovely and so helpful and picks the best clothes. I love to get some good shopping in before the crazy crowds arrive. Same goes for their home store, Salte, and the surf shops—Green Room and The Boneyard—they are fully stocked and just waiting for you!
Restaurants and cafes! Try all the restaurants without the craziness. Personal favorites are Beach Road and La Sofitta in Vineyard Haven, and Alchemy in Edgartown. Bonus points at Alchemy, because you get to see work by my favorite Vineyard Artist, Terry Crimmen. In Edgartown hang out for breakfast, coffee, lunch or afternoon rosé at my personal favorite, Behind The Bookstore Cafe.
Speaking of artists, plan a visit for the opening Vineyard Artisans show and you can do all of the above PLUS see what the local Vineyard Artists have been busy creating all winter. Memorial Day Weekend at the Grange Hall in West Tisbury.
BONUS reason—IF you come by boat, you will actually get a last-minute mooring or even dock space. Call ahead to Edgartown Harbormaster or the Black Dog Wharf and most Spring weekends you will get lucky. We have had some of our best boating experiences around Martha’s Vineyard in the late spring. We even picked my middle son’s name one glorious June day while cruising through Cape Pogue, listening to Van Morrisson. You see? Magic happens here in Spring!
Edgartown Lighthouse on a glorious spring day
If I have any goals in this life, I have trip goals. Epic motorcycle camping trip across Canada. Epic train journey from Paris to Tehran. Epic bush plane exploration of Africa. (Notice a theme here?) Sailing to Cuba was high on this list.
We caught wind of the Miami to Havana sailing race while reading online about the new law allowing boaters’ access to Cuba (Thanks President Obama!). Of course, American sailors have been sneaking into Cuba for decades. Cuban customs' officials helpfully stamp Visas, leaving American passports innocently blank. But it never hurts to be able to do things aboveboard. So we signed up, and got down to business—any epic journey comes with an equally epic stack of paperwork and red tape. Let's just say I drank many cafe Cubanos while filling out and re-filling out various forms.
By mid-January, we had our nine-person crew assembled and flights were booked. It was really happening! Now for insurance...securing this turned out to be a Herculean task. No insurance company wants to insure a boat in Cuban waters. Most of the 46 boats in our regatta ended up sailing without any insurance, but this was not an option for us. There was also the story, fresh in our minds, of the 90 foot power boat that cruised to Cuba without insurance, got into trouble while in Cuban waters (losing three of four engines), then high-tailed it back to international water where it promptly sank. Whoops. Not a good day, and not one that we could recover from, so insurance it was. When the budget version didn't come through, we finally hit "send" on what I'll call the ‘platinum plan’ just before we lost cell service off the coast of Florida.
We were sailing down as part of the inaugural Miami to Havana Regatta, put on by the Coral Reef Yacht Club in Miami. It was the first race from Miami to Havana in over 50 years. When President Obama opened up diplomatic relations in late 2014, boat travel was approved so long as the sailors involved were part of an officially organized travel experience involving the Cuban people. The way the race committee handled this caveat was by planning a second, shorter, race once we arrived in Havana. This second race was to go along the Malecon, the huge seawall that stretches along the Havana waterfront. The idea, ironically, was to have Cuban citizens aboard the sailboats during this race. A fantastic idea in theory, Cubans are not even allowed to step foot on private boats.* (thank you, wet foot dry foot policy). While not an official law, any recreational boating activity by Cubans is prohibited by the Naval Command Center, and this commission has the final word on all things Cuban and boats, so there is no higher authority one can appeal to. Yay, Communism. To put it another way-There wasn't a chance in hell any Cuban citizens were going to be allowed aboard a fleet of American boats, sailing along the waterfront, gleefully waving goodbye.
The starting line off the Miami coast was the usual exciting traffic jam of sailboats jockeying for position, support boats yelling their goodbyes and photographer boats taking pictures. The excitement was short-lived, as we turned towards Cuba and away from the wind. Robin Hood is a 55,000-pound beauty of a vessel. A Ted Hood-designed Little Harbor, she is made to go fast enough while being so heavy that she is very sea-worthy--and comfortable. (She had a sister ship also entered in the race, and rumor has it their captain wanted to forgo cockpit cushions in order to shave a few pounds off. We got more than a few good laughs out of that story as we trailed farther and farther behind them all the way to Havana.) With a tailwind and no spinnaker, we were traveling at Robin Hood’s worst point of sail...meaning, very slowly. The official race distance was 210 nautical miles and we traveled roughly 262 miles, thanks to a whole lot of jibing. But hey—we were going to Cuba. We popped some champagne, made some lasagna, and got ready for what we assumed (you know what they say about that) was our only night of sailing.
Welp...40 hours later in the pre-dawn deep blue light following our second night at sea, we started to see more and more tiny fishing pangas checking what seemed to be small traps. Most of these boats had little or no lights so we would come upon them in the dark like phantoms, that became more and more real until suddenly we were looming right over them, and could faintly make out the brief waves of the fishermen working aboard.
Pulling into Ernest Hemingway Marina, 42 hours after the excitement of the starting gun, we were in for our first surprise--it was all easy. Navigationally, entering Havana's port was a breeze. Customs was equally simple. We were warned of Cuban officials checking crew members' temperatures and vital signs for evidence of illness, and checking every inch of the boat for signs of...well for who knows what. Checking, checking, searching, and checking some more...this we were warned of time and again. Instead, they sat down, had a coke, and looked at a few forms. Then they shook our hands and were on their way. And we were on our way to find cabs, which turned out to be pristine 1950s convertibles, one with a belly-dancing driver named Billy who took us to his favorite restaurant. Was it a scam? Did we get a bit taken advantage of? Of course!!! And the food was delicious, the view was unreal, the mojitos were tops, and it was all worth it.
Dinner that night was in a gorgeous crumbling mansion with a rooftop bar that looked out over the lights--and dark holes--of Havana. The meal was fresh ceviche and ropa vieja, fish tacos and pulled pork sliders. It was the most delicious food we had ever eaten. The walls were crumbling around us but the decor and food was five-star. This was Havana, in all its old glory, current circumstance, and hope. While walking around during our second, and final, full day in Havana, we all remarked on how clean the city was. Even when the sweeping views included the gorgeously renovated Grand Theater of Havana, home of the National Ballet, mixed with crumbling buildings being swallowed whole by vines, the overall picture was a clean one. Many boulevards were swarming construction zones and yet they were still just so clean. This is one feature I've noticed in other poor countries. People are willing to take any job, and many unemployed will walk around with trash barrels cleaning up for a pittance. Whether the poor financial scenario or Communism is to blame, it made for some beautiful vistas. That said, we did have one underage cabbie who drove us the "back way", presumably to avoid the cops, then promptly got pulled over and arrested, leaving us to walk through some neighborhoods that seemed to live under piles of trash, with even dead dogs left baking in the ditches. As with any perception, there is more than one way to look at it. The fact that the tourist areas are clean do not erase the reality that most Cubans live with when they return home at night.
During our visit in mid-February, Pope Francis made a brief appearance at Jose Marti International Airport, and as I write this on March 20th, President Obama and his family are touching down in Air Force One for a historic visit to Cuba—the first by a sitting U.S. President in over 80 years. Just after landing, Obama tweeted "Que Bola, Cuba? Just touched down here, looking forward to meeting and hearing directly from the Cuban people." Anthony Bourdain went to Cuba during his most recent TV season, and he asked the Cuban club owners he met what they were going to do once the flood of American tourists, and money, started. They laughed nervously, and just kept shaking their heads--after half a century of being in the dark, it is likely hard for them to imagine a flood of any kind of money or (good) attention. I'm just so glad we got to experience it before the floodgates open and American tourists pour in. It was truly a 1950s film set, seemingly frozen in time and beauty. I’m sure many Cubans have a less rosy opinion of their 1950’s facade, but to a visitor it is beautiful, and if nothing else it is fascinating to see.
We planned a party cruise home--24 hours of rose champagne, Ed jamming on the ukulele, and maybe some trolling for bonita. Instead of cruising right into the Gulf Stream as planned and having it shoot us straight to Miami (the best laid plans…) we saw 30 knots of wind right on our nose and 10-15 foot seas. No one had a drink. No one had anything but a stray saltine cracker or two as we heaved and pitched our way home. Miami was quickly abandoned in favor of the much closer and more direct Key West. Not far from my mind throughout this trip were the thousands of dilapidated rafts that Cubans risk their lives on just to reach Florida. In those conditions it was unfathomable, and yet hundreds of thousands have done just that in the decades since Cuba closed its borders against any exodus.
When we got in to Key West around midnight, we pulled into the first slip we could see, and abandoned ship for showers and margaritas. After all the checklists I had gone over for returning to US waters and clearing the way with the USCG, US Customs and Immigration, in the end we had to call them five times and finally took a cab there at lunchtime the following day to have them check out our passports. Apparently they prefer to board your vessel as soon as it enters US waters (a truly laughable idea given the weather), but no one we talked to seemed terribly concerned. We could have smuggled 40 Cubans out with us had we felt so inclined and they could have strolled right off the dock into a new life in the Conch Republic. As it was, we hadn't returned with so much as a single Cuban cigar. The experience alone was enough.
*There are loopholes in the no-boating policy but it takes a foreign spouse and an absurd amount of paperwork and jumping through hoops. I am not 100% positive that no Cubans participated in the race, but we did not see any on any of the other boats, and I imagine that it didn't happen
our first sight of Cuban customs
The cars really ARE as cool as they say
Our fabulous crew of salty sailors!
Kids play soccer everywhere
Everything colorful—the marina was actually VERY nice, with full facilities and pool
The streets are so beautiful at every corner
Setting sun as we head south from Miami towards the gulf stream
Nothing like a quick bike ride to pick up a new AC ;)
Lots of construction everywhere—you could sense Havana getting ready for big things
Raising our flags as we arrive
Fruit and veggie carts, my kind of place ;)
A long line of race boats docked at the marina—the green hull to the left was the other boat similar to ours
Rooftop bars with views abound
After our amazing trip down from Vinalhaven, ME to Hope Town, in the Bahamas--a 1450 nautical mile trip--we were beyond excited to finally arrive. This was our first big trip offshore as a family, and we arrived salty, exhausted, and PROUD. The first week was spent getting the boat in order, cleaning her, and getting everything properly stowed and strapped down for the 3-week stretch during which we would leave her to fly home to New England for Christmas.
We arrived back aboard on December 30th, ready to finally kick back and enjoy Hope Town, while also planning our next adventure continuing south through more of the Bahamas. On January 3rd, a 58' Fleming power boat, 110,000 pounds, backed into Robin Hood's starboard stern at full throttle. We were not aboard, but we were nearby eating breakfast, and we'll never forget the crunching sound that alerted us.
A captain on a nearby boat realized something was wrong with the Fleming's captain and sprinted over, boarding the Fleming and taking control before successfully backing her into the appropriate slip. The captain of the Fleming gave a statement, which the dock master recorded and printed, claiming that he blacked out for 5-10 seconds, forgetting that he had bow thrusters (He had 12). Essentially he just freaked out, despite his lifetime of experience. We have since heard conflicting stories of his actual prowess at the helm, and the gouge he left in the dock while leaving it later that winter argues against the theory that this was just a one-time blooper.
There was an 8-inch-diameter hole punctured in the back of our boat, about 10 inches above the water line. At the very center of the hole, the Fleming had actually punched through the 3-inch solid fiberglass hull. Inside the aft lazarette was a crack that ran the entire width of the boat's stern. The rub rail was bent where Robin Hood hit the dock, and there was a 3-foot gouge along the pylons where Robin Hood was lifted out of the water and slammed against them.
The ensuing months were spent coordinating insurance surveyors and finally hiring a maritime attorney to help us recover some of the losses (still a work in progress!). We secured a temporary fix and sailed her across to Hinckley Yacht Services in Stuart, Florida, where she will remain until November 1. We miss her dearly, but we will return to her November 1 looking like a new boat and ready to sail on to new adventures.
Sometimes a change in plans has a silver lining. We are devastated about the injuries to Robin Hood, but thankful that this happened in Hope Town and not in Morehead City, NC, or in one of the more remote locations in the Bahamas. We are stuck in what was, really, our primary destination planned for the winter. Leaving the boat in Florida for the summer was initially a bummer, since we love nothing more than sailing Maine and the islands around Vinalhaven all summer.
Safety-wise, I also do not feel comfortable being on such a remote island with 4--almost 5--kids and having no way off except a slow and infrequent ferry. Due to this concern, we bought a power boat for the summer so that we will still be able to explore the gorgeous Maine coast, and I can rest easier at night knowing that we can now reach the mainland quickly in case of an emergency. So, all in all, we are considering it a win. A headache-inducing and rather costly win.
