Dinghy Chaps, Part 2

Last I reported, back in October, I had the dinghy chaps about three quarters done when it was time to set sail for the sunny south. We arrived in the Caribbean six week ago, and have taken time to relax and acclimatize, but I finally got back to my dinghy chaps project last week. It’s a lot more challenging working on board, with the dinghy in question needed in the water at all times as our primary mode of transportation to shore. And I find I can only work about 3 or 4 hours a day in this heat. But here is how we managed it…
Day 1 : We went to the local pub, Lagoonies, and pulled the dinghy up onto their dock in order to take measurements and mark where the rub rail and all other anti-chafe patches were to go. This was OK for a quick job, but we were clearly in everyone’s way, as they had to climb through our dinghy to get into their own. Then back to the boat for a few hours of cutting out and installing the re-enforcements, plus the drawstring casing around the outer edge. The main salon became my sewing room as it is too windy and frequently rainy here, so working up top was not practical.
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Day 2: We went ashore on a little island this time, since we had to spend some time doing the final fitting. The patches were all good, but with the drawstring in place, I could see I needed to do some adjusting to the cone ends, where I had too much fabric. I also consulted with the Captain on the strategic placement of pockets. Now that we use the dinghy every day, we needed to organize it, to make it more practical. Instead of the dinghy essentials rolling around in a puddle on the floor, constantly underfoot, I made pockets for all the stuff. A bow-shaped pocket makes good use of the dead space at the front to store the anchor, the lines, safety equipment and life jackets, while the four pockets along the sides take the nav lights, engine oil, boarding ladder, and our ashore footwear. They were made with leftover phifertex from the cones. I love that stuff, it literally sheds water. A couple more hours sewing that together, and the chaps were ready to install.
Day 3: We again appropriated someone’s dock to haul the dinghy up out of the water – it appeared not to be in use, but we did get a visit from a nearby marina. They graciously allowed us to continue. We installed the chaps, added a few more snaps in strategic locations to snug things up, then we got to take our tender home, all dressed in her new finery!
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Finally, mission accomplished…here she is, our Big Fender, the cutest little dinghy on the dock!

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Here are some stats, in case you are thinking of taking on a similar project:
Materials cost to build chaps for a 9ft dinghy: about $400US
Time spent on the project: 30 hours on the hard, plus 10 hours while at anchor, for a total of 40 hours
That’s an entire work-week, so remember to take that into consideration when someone quotes you what seems like an outrageous price to do them for you, it’s a bargain, unless of course you love a good challenge and DIY sewing projects, which I do!

This last pic has nothing to do with the chaps, but everything to do with the dinghy…we have one of the smallest and slowest dinghies in the lagoon here on St. Martin, so with all the jet-skis, tour boats and other dinghies whizzing by us, it is always a wet ride. The front pocket now holds my trusty Canada Day rain poncho, which I found in the bottom of our hiking back-pack that came from home, and is perfect for keeping me dry as we poke along in the lagoon, in our pretty little Avon Rover with its little 5 horse-power engine.

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Beware of the Sea Legend!

I thought crossing the ocean would be the scary part of this sailing adventure, but it turns out anchoring in the Caribbean is much scarier. We had an early morning encounter with the Sea Legend that left us shaking all over. I am not talking about some mythical sea creature who swallows sailboats whole, I am talking about a very real threat to cruisers that is  currently roaming the Caribbean. Sea Legend is a 115ft motor yacht with a scarily incompetent captain and crew, that nearly ploughed into us TWICE while we were at anchor this morning. They  were anchored next to us overnight, then when the wind picked up in the morning, they swung around, coming to within ten feet of hitting our bow. All they had to say  to me was “get out a fender”! When it happened a second time, we shouted at them. The captain assured us there was no need to get excited, he was a qualified 50-ton captain and he had it all under control. To which all we could say was “if you have it under control, why are you within 10 feet of my bow, AGAIN! Fortunately, we weren’t actually hit, but we watched vigilantly as they executed the sloppiest departure we have ever seen.

This is what Sea Legend is supposed to look like:

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And this is what she looked like to us when we were standing on our bow:

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Way too close for comfort!

(note: photos are from their website – we were too busy saving our boat to take our own)

And that was our second near-miss encounter with a charter yacht this week. While we were anchored off Anegada, a large catamaran came charging into the mooring field after dark,with all their lights ablaze, including the ones in the cockpit. We were sitting quietly in our cockpit enjoying our after-dinner drinks when we realized he was headed straight for us – did he not see us? Our anchor light, high on the mast, was on, but no interior lights as we had been sitting up in the cockpit since before dark. As I saw his navigation lights bearing rapidly down on us I jumped up and turned on our cockpit lights, at which point he executed a sharp  90 degree turn, narrowly avoiding us. That captain had obviously not seen us, probably blinded by his own lights. Another close encounter with a scary sea monster, a.k.a. Charter Yacht. 

Cruisers Beware!

 

Reflecting on Retirement

While it’s true I have been “retired” for a whole year now, it is finally starting to look and feel like the real thing.

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As Matthew mentioned in his post “Being Here”, we have been working on this big project called “sailing off to the Caribbean” for several years, and this past year was an especially busy one with all the preparations. The stress of that took its toll on me, and by the time we were done with the rally, I was pretty much “done” myself. So we took some much-needed R&R, tucked away in a secluded little bay in the North Sound off Virgin Gorda. Surrounded by forested hills on three sides, and nothing but the ocean all the way to Africa on the open end, we had this lovely piece of tropical paradise to ourselves, the only boat in the bay. We slept, ate, swam and read – just what was needed to re-charge our batteries.

I am finally feeling retired now, and am ready to start reaping the rewards of all that hard work.

Peaceful evening in Deep Bay

Peaceful evening in Deep Bay

A short dinghy-ride to stretch our legs on the beach revealed that there used to be a resort here, but it is now closed. Interesting to go for a walk and poke around in the abandoned beach bar. Falling down umbrellas and palm-frond littered the beach. The beach toys are all still there, volleyball net, boules and a surprisingly intact chess set – very odd indeed. 

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Chess on the beach, anyone?