Jim Ament, the author of this journal, was a crew member on Indigo, a sailing charter boat based in Grenada, Windward Islands. Jim’s journal captures the excitement and adventure of the charter and the importance of the friendships built during that cruise. As for any journal written at sea, the writing style captures the cruise unlike a narrative written after returning home. For this reason, the editors have kept the journal in Jim’s original form and style. We hope that you will enjoy it as much as we do. –Bill Buffum and Laura Landis, Boulder Beacon editors
The boat
Indigo is a 2009 sloop-rigged 44-foot Jeanneau, with a furling genoa and lazy jacks for the main. It has two steering wheels; a 6-foot 7-inch bulb keel; a fixed three-bladed prop; a blade rudder; three staterooms, three heads, a large salon, galley and cockpit—comfortable for six people; Raymarine navigation equipment; but no microwave or air conditioning. The charter cost $6,500 for a two-week trip from Horizon Yacht Charters.
The crew
Capt. Anne Hammond
Harry Hammond
Bill Buffum
Les Ratekin
Todd Berryman
Jim Ament
The trip
Sunday, Jan. 22, 2017: The adventure began with five of us taking an all-night flight to Miami with a long layover. Todd flew directly to St. Lucia, where we would meet up with him and another boat, a catamaran named Marine Venus, captained by Rick Gulick of Boulder Valley Sail & Power Squadron. In Miami, Anne, Bill and I took trains into town to have lunch and see harbor boats. Anne, who had a cold, left the table to take a pill, but it got caught in her throat. A waiter near the bar performed the Heimlich maneuver on her. Bill ran to help while I guarded our money and passports. A rather eventful start to the trip!
Later, we flew to Grenada, arriving at 8:10 p.m. on Jan. 23. We stayed at the La Heliconia hotel near the airport and skipped dinner; Les and I shared a two-bed room. The cold shower felt good in the hot, humid climate.
Tuesday, Jan. 24: We slept in, had a good breakfast at the hotel, checked out at 10 a.m. and hung around the hotel for three hours. We then went to True Blue Bay, where our boat was docked. We dropped our luggage at the Horizon Yacht Charters office, and then Les, Anne and I took a gaudy van taxi to a grocery store to get supplies for the boat. This was a long process, but we returned with two grocery carts of food plus 15 gallons of water. We enjoyed lunch at the Dodgy Dock restaurant at the marina and then got on the boat at 4:30 p.m. and got all our stuff organized.
We slept on the boat that night, getting adjusted to the heat and humidity. Harry and Anne had the larger forward stateroom, Bill had the starboard room to himself and I slept in the stateroom where Les and I kept our stuff, although Les slept in the salon.
Wednesday, Jan. 25 (Day 1 of sailing): We showered at the marina and had breakfast at the Dodgy Dock. We then met our hired captain for the first leg of the trip. Heiden, a Grenada native, gave us a thorough briefing of the boat so we could all learn how the various systems worked. He was full of information and advice and had an interesting background as a charter captain for three years. We thought it funny that we were all in short-sleeved shirts in warm weather (mid-70s), and Heiden had on three layers of shirts and a watch cap. He said he was cold!
We left for St. Lucia, 126 miles away, at 1:30 p.m. The plan was to get there quickly. Heiden was essentially delivering the boat, so he ran the engine the whole time to keep the batteries charged so the autopilot could be used. We all had assigned night watches, as this would be a long trip.
Thursday, Jan. 26 (Day 2 of sailing): Our route wove through and came close to the many islands of Grenada, St. Vincent and the Grenadines, all the way to St. Lucia. We passed through three separate nations. Heiden knew the territory, so with the autopilot on, it was a pretty straight run through crazy currents and strong winds. We averaged a speed of about 6 to 8 knots, which was a lot of fun. But it was tough getting any sleep with the sometimes rough seas banging the hull. Les got seasick for the first time in his life.
At 5:20 a.m., the engine quit, and nobody knew why. Heiden checked the engine but couldn’t determine what was wrong. We accepted our fate, and sailed with our reefed main and full genoa, having to man the helm. About an hour later, Heiden tried the engine, and it surprised us by starting. Puzzling, to say the least.
We arrived at Marigot Bay, St. Lucia, after 23.5 hours of straight sailing. We refilled our diesel fuel tanks, then hooked to a mooring ball in the harbor. Since we were entering a new country, Anne, as captain, had to deal with customs paperwork and pay the fees. We took the dinghy into the docking area to get that done, looked around and had lunch. I had an excellent mahi-mahi sandwich with a salad. Anne, Bill and I then took a hike up a steep hill with a great view of the harbor and took some pictures.
Back down at the dock area, we noticed a massive, beautiful ketch, Drumbeat, and talked to one of the crew, who said there were 10 crew members and space for 10 guests. They were doing minor repairs. He looked to be in his 20s, and we remarked what a great life for a young man or woman to enjoy for a while. A week’s charter is about $175,000. Must be nice!
I also met a retired New Zealander at the dock who was a world traveler on his Westsail 32, a famous brand of blue-water boat with history of weathering storms, like in “The Perfect Storm.” The owner was a wiry older guy who loved to talk. He was enjoying some time at Marigot Bay with no definitive plan of where to sail next.
Later, we had a snack dinner on our boat, with lots of conversation, and everybody went to bed early. Heiden flew home.
Friday, Jan. 27 (Day 3 on the boat, no sailing): I slept well, as I suspect most of the others did, after our marathon sail to get here. It became cool during the night, so I had to cover myself with a sheet to stay warm. I got up at 6:30 a.m., and eventually we all had coffee. Les made pancakes and eggs for breakfast. After cleaning up the breakfast dishes, some of us took the dinghy into the marina to use the bathrooms and purchase ice and trash bags. I also used the phone in one of the few places I could get Wi-Fi.
Back on the boat, we discussed plans and duties. Then we went back to the marina/resort area, where I took a dip in the resort pool. We relaxed by the pool and sent emails, and then Les and I had lunch at the pool bar—a fish sandwich, salad and spicy iced tea, all very good. We met up with Todd and others from Rick’s catamaran, and eventually went back to Indigo for dinner—spaghetti with meat sauce, a wonderful salad and water to drink. One gets thirsty in this climate, so I kept hydrating. We talked sailing and boat design with the crew and went to bed at 11 p.m. Todd moved in with Bill, while I stayed in my stateroom, and Les stayed in the salon.
Saturday, Jan. 28 (Day 4 on the boat, day 3 of sailing): Marigot Bay is a completely sheltered mangrove-lined bay, famous as a hurricane harbor. British naval commander Lord Nelson hid from the French in this bay long ago. Our plan was to get cleared through customs and then take a short sail to Soufriere, St. Lucia, and the Pitons.
I went into the marina to shower while Anne tried to get our passports stamped since we would leave St. Lucia within 24 hours and then check into St. Vincent and the Grenadines, a separate country of 32 islands south of us. The bureaucrats in customs wouldn’t stamp our passports, saying we had to leave the country right away if they stamped them. This was not what we had been told about the protocol, and entering a new country without having our passports stamped could result in heavy fines. Secondly, it was too far to get to St. Vincent before dark, and the charter company’s rule was to always get anchored before dark.
So, rebels that we were, we went back to the boat, had cereal and coffee for breakfast, and left for Soufriere anyway, not sure what we were going to do. Almost immediately we had engine trouble; it would die when we tried to idle. We managed to get it going, but we knew something wasn’t right.
The trip to Soufriere was varied with bursts of wind that allowed for 8-knot sailing and calmer moments that dropped us to 5 or 6 knots. When at the helm, one could detect the boat’s strong tendency to weather helm. We arrived about 1:30 p.m., and because we couldn’t control the boat at low speeds, we had a bit of a circus trying to connect to a mooring ball. Complicating it were young boys in their homemade wooden boats trying to help us but getting in the way. They do this for money, but you still have to pay an official fee for the mooring.
Anne, Bill and I picked up Rick, the captain of the catamaran, and went to shore to try to get our passports stamped so we could leave St. Lucia. The bureaucrat there was bored, surly and officious, and complained that another office had given us the wrong forms. Rick, who went before Anne, killed her with kindness, and she stamped his crew’s passports. When it was Anne’s turn, we did the same thing while she checked the form she had against the passports and slowly stamped them all. As we left, we said, “Have a nice rest of your weekend.” Her well-implanted frown never changed as she said, “I work tomorrow.” Nonetheless, we were relieved to get through the official paperwork.
We walked around town, full of broken-down houses interspersed with an occasional nicely painted one. There was lots of trash, even in a stream that ran through town into the bay. We went back to the boat for some relaxation and puttering. Les worked with his kite, which he frustratingly couldn’t get up. Anne and Todd got in the water. Bill fiddled with things on the boat. Harry read, and I wrote a journal entry.
Later, I showered on the boat and fixed myself a peanut butter, banana and honey sandwich for dinner. Anne, Todd and Bill went into town to visit the monthly party, where they had a fish dinner. We could hear the loud music just fine where we were. Harry, Les and I talked while sitting in the cockpit, watching the world get dark. We had only our anchor lights on, so our night vision was pretty good on a warm, pleasant tropical evening. The three partyers returned, and all eventually crashed in our respective places for the night.
Sunday, Jan. 29 (Day 5 on the boat, day 4 of sailing): We were planning to sail to the island of Bequia, Admiralty Bay in Port Elizabeth, but the engine wouldn’t start, which changed our plans. Mike, from the catamaran, is a mechanic for United Airlines, so he came over to our boat to check out the engine. He couldn’t determine the problem, but we all thought it might be clogged filters, bad diesel fuel or both. After running the engine to charge the batteries and cool the fridge for the requisite two hours, we tidied up and readied the boat for the day, hoisting sail while on the mooring. We waited for a puff to give us power and then, dropping the mooring lines, we sailed off our mooring and out to sea.
The day was filled with exciting and enjoyable beam and broad reach sailing. In some cases, we were experiencing 12- to 15-foot rolling seas, 20-knot winds with bursts estimated to be up to 30 knots, white caps, white streaks in the water, and getting wet from ocean spray. The crew did well all around in managing the sails with Bill’s guidance, and all took turns at the helm, which was a blast.
About 14 miles out of St. Vincent, we had a short period of lesser wind and tried to start the engine. We could turn it over, but it wouldn’t stay running. Our collective attitude was “enough is enough.”
Anne called Horizon Yacht Charters and talked to their tech person, who walked us through the procedure to change two filters. Still no engine. Instead of going to Bequia, we sailed to Blue Lagoon on the southern tip of St. Vincent where Horizon-contracted tech people were located. The easterly winds and currents were so strong that we couldn’t get through the narrow channel into the harbor. Also, there were shallow waters to avoid, and it would be dark soon.
Anne talked to the local tech people again, and shortly two guys came out, crashing through the waves in a dinghy. Brian and Kimron, locals from St. Vincent, spritely boarded our boat, with Brian taking over the helm and Kimron tearing into the engine to check things. The seas were so rough that he couldn’t work; he also got sick off the stern and had to compose himself. A little later, Kimron went below again, while I held a flashlight for him. He unscrewed a part in the fuel tank under our bed, pulled out a small screen filter that I didn’t know existed and used a rag to wipe off lots of gunk. I asked him about the gunk inside the screen filter, and he said they’d take care of it the next morning; now, they needed to get the engine started so they could get into the harbor. What would we have done had we not been able to get in? I assumed it would have been a long night out in the currents, probably hove to, or we’d have to be towed in.
Kimron put everything back together, and the engine started. Brian carefully took us into the dock, scraping shallow ground on the way, and we were finally parked safely on their dock, right across from a nice restaurant. It was about 9 p.m., and everyone was tired and hungry. Because this was a new country (St. Vincent and the Grenadines), we had to check into customs in the morning, so we were “officially” quarantined on the boat until we could do that.
However, because this was a special force majeure situation, we could get off the boat if we stayed in the immediate area. We locked up the boat, and all six of us went to the Loft Restaurant in sight of the boat. I had a wonderful fish dinner and then took a cold water shower at the marina. Everyone crashed about 11:30 p.m., tired from the day.
Monday, Jan. 30 (Day 6 on the boat, no sailing): Some of us had a full breakfast at the Loft, and we all waited for the customs and tech people to show up. They were expected early, but we’d learned to lack confidence in such things. We’d learned the term “liming,” which means “a sublime self-indulgence characterized by a carefree detachment with neither sense of time nor duty.” They get to work when they feel like it, and I suppose we Americans need to learn to go with the flow.
They eventually showed up, but something was wrong. Brian and Kimron avoided us. Strange. Anne called Horizon Yacht Charters headquarters, who said we were good to go. The engine was fixed. We thought, not good enough, and not what we were promised regarding completely cleaning the screen filter and checking the fuel tank for gunk. So, there must have been a little battle between headquarters and the local guys, and Brian and Kimron were probably embarrassed.
After some further negotiations, the screen filter was removed and cleaned, and the tank was checked. Also, Anne was able to get the official paperwork handled. By 2 p.m., all was settled, but it was too late to sail anywhere. Horizon Yacht Charters then moved our boat to another dock so we could have shore power. Les, Todd and I went swimming at a small beach nearby and then took a shower, and later we had another great fish dinner at the Loft and went to bed.
Tuesday, Jan. 31 (Day 7 on the boat, day 5 sailing): The island of St. Vincent is located south of St. Lucia and 24 miles north of Grenada. There is little to the east except Barbados, 100 miles away. The trade winds from the Atlantic blow east to west without much to alter them. The island is 18 miles long and 11 miles wide and has 100,000 people. Heiden advised us not to stop at Kingstown, the largest city; some tourists had been killed there in recent years. English is the official language, and one interesting fact is that it is illegal to import, sell, or wear camouflage clothing.
I had Cheerios with banana and a coffee for breakfast while we waited for a Horizon Yacht Charters representative to take the boat out of the dock and through the shallows, a requirement of the charter company. We had another beautiful sail, bypassing Bequia, arriving at Britannia Bay about two-and-a-half hours later on the island of Mustique, where we got attached to a mooring ball. Les and I made meat sandwiches for everyone—turkey, ham or pastrami and then after lunch some of us went snorkeling. I saw some small fish, and I inspected the underside of our boat. A few of us then went onto shore and took an interesting taxi tour of the island with Boom Boom, our driver.
There’s a small village and school for the locals, but the island is privately owned by celebrities and wealthy families. There’s a small airport with one paved shallow-bowl shaped runway for their private jets. The homes may be rented for thousands per week when not being used by their owners. Boom Boom said they were almost always rented, but they were not moneymakers for their owners due to taxes, the cost of full-time staff from the village, the cost of electricity from a diesel-powered plant, and expensive desalinated water.
We went to the Basil Bar, the only place with Wi-Fi, and I had my first alcoholic beverage of the trip, a short bottle of Heineken. Then we went shopping for fresh fish, but they only had barracuda, so we didn’t buy any.
When we got back to Indigo, I took a short nap on the deck—some alone time, my introvert party. Later, Les and Todd decided to go onto shore and buy lobsters for dinner. Nobody was sure how to cook them, and we already knew they were too big for our pot to steam whole, but Les and Todd forged ahead and came back with four spiny lobsters, which don’t have large pincers. Also, the good meat is all in the tails. They cut the tails off so they fit in the pot, and steamed them on a rack for about 10 minutes. We melted some butter for the lobster and had a wonderful dinner with a salad and rice, a real treat.
“The Journal of the Indigo, Part II” concludes in the Winter 2025 issue of The Ensign magazine.
