Lyn's Log, 17th February 2007
Cienfuegos to Havana

Western Cuba.
N22º29', W84º20'
13,247 miles.

Have you heard of the “Green Flash” phenomenon? When the sun sets over the sea on a perfect, cloudless horizon in the tropics, at the last moment you are supposed to see a vivid green flash. Sunset after sunset we sat on deck with our drinks and nibbles watching in hope. We have never once seen a green flash, but it still makes an event in our day, “The Green Flash Show”, as we have come to call it.

The popular destination from Cienfuegos is Cayo Largo, one of the larger off-lying islands where several hotels and a good marina have been built. The mangroves have been cleared to provide sandy beaches. But it looked like just another holiday resort so we anchored off another, uninhabited island, Cayo Rossario, where there was nothing but mangroves and coral. To our surprise two charter yachts came to join us just as it got dark. The next two nights we anchored in similarly remote spots, though on our own. There were no fishing boats visiting us offering us lobsters for exchange for a cigarette lighter and a cake of soap, which everyone else we spoke to seem to have found. Even our attempts to catch our own fish were unsuccessful, even though on one day we sailed for several hours through an enormous shoal of fish jumping out of the water around us. The gulls were diving and screeching but were probably not having any more luck with getting a bite than we were as the fish were bigger them. We trailed two lines but only caught one fish, and that came off the hook just as we were pulling it out.

In the early hours of the next night we anchored just south of a headland separating us from the dive resort of Maria la Gorda, and went to sleep. At midday we motored around to the resort and were checked in by the officials. There was nothing there to interest us and in any case the heavy shore break and coral made it difficult for us to get ashore. We were advised that there was a cold front coming in and that it would be best for us to stay in the bay there and sit out the winds. We decided to move on in search of better shelter. Getting our clearance caused us some grief. We were made to come alongside a concrete jetty so that they could search the boat with a dog. We knew that with the big swell there was not enough depth there but they insisted, moving a fishing boat forward to make room for us on the very end. Even so, there was not enough room and caught in the surge the front of the yacht smashed into the fishing boat. There were no bollards or cleats on the pontoon, only a steel chain for us to tie to, and that broke twice as we lurched up and down in the swell, bouncing on the bottom. We bent a stanchion and could not get away quick enough.

We made good progress and rounded the Cabo San Antonio, the westernmost point of Cuba, despite being warned at Maria la Gorda that it would be far too rough for us. We threaded through the reefs into the shallows on the north-west side of Cuba, found the channel markers and made our way to a sheltered anchorage. We were listening to ‘Metal Mickey’ (US Coastguard forecast) to keep track of the predicted cold front. We met a couple of Canadians who had the Nigel Calder pilot guide. It was a much better guide than the one we had and we took notes of the pages covering our north passage to Havana.

We motored the next day to a very sheltered anchorage another twenty-five miles north, still in the shallows behind reefs. Here we waited for the front to go through. On the way I was fishing and caught a good sized barracuda. Andrew was not sure it was edible because of possible ciguatera poisoning, and after taking its photograph, threw it overboard. Then a fishing boat came up to us. Andrew showed the men the picture and they said it would have been good to eat. We offered to trade rum for fish, or even a lobster, but just our luck, the three fishermen had caught nothing. We felt sorry for them and gave them each a cigarette lighter, a bar of soap and a tinned beer, then Andrew’s cap, which one offered to swap for his own very greasy one. The fishermen here are extremely poor. With a last hopeful gesture for rum, they took off. A little later I caught a mackerel, which gave me plenty of lovely fish for fishcakes in the evening. But whilst fishing, two spinners and a feather lost their hooks, and when I added a wire tracer to the spinner after catching the barracuda, I lost the whole spinner when the wire was bitten through. I went back to using just the thick monofil.

Thursday 15th February was still calm in light southwesterly winds, the one exposed direction for our anchorage. We did some repairs to the dinghy and the Aries, some clothes washing and washing of ourselves, read a lot, used the computer, and generally had a very pleasant day. In the evening we took down the sun awning and made sure everything was secure on deck. At eight in the morning the wind suddenly blew up to gale force, at first from the southwest, but then veering to the northwest from which thankfully we were sheltered. The wind generator was putting in a steady seven amps.

I made bread every other day, having stocked up on flour, but by Friday the only margarine left was a quarter pound of cooking margarine that looked more like lard. I had not found any butter or margarine to buy in Cuba. For a week I had been using mayonnaise on the lunchtime sandwiches. Several days previously I had re-opened a piece of cheese that had been left a couple of days. As I cut off a slice, lots of white maggots started to crawl out of it. Ugh! We had so many flies around at this time, they always seemed to be in the cabin. Our fly spray had run out a week previously.

Saturday was calmer and we moved another twenty miles north to another anchorage before the next cold front due on Sunday. We were not sure if we would be able to make it over the shallows but Andrew was very good at navigating in, following the Nigel Calder guide. Even so it took us over an hour to work in the last mile behind a Cay, sometimes with no more than a foot of water beneath our keel, before we anchored. We put out two anchors and awaited the winds. There was a rough sort of fishing dock on this cay, where fishermen might base themselves, and a father and son rowed over to us and we had a short chat in rudimentary Spanish and sign language. They did not want a beer but asked if we had any fishhooks, which we gave them. There were some strong gusts during the night but the black clouds and rain did not arrive till morning. We found we were extremely well sheltered and secure. In the afternoon when the sun came out, we rowed around the mangroves with a mackerel line but saw no fish. We did see our first live conch grazing on the turtle grass and a great number of bright orange starfish. On our way to this anchorage we passed two Portuguese men of war jellyfish.

The weather forecast began to change, predicting better weather. This was welcome news indeed as we could then make Havana before our friend Barry Tipping arrived from England on 22nd February. We had agreed to meet him for his holiday some months previously when time had seemed ample, but what with the bad weather we were beginning to wonder if we would make it in time. Moreover this part of the country is so isolated there is no mobile phone service and no way we could let him know what was happening. We extracted ourselves from the shallows and slowly made our way through the intricate reefs to another anchorage close to an easy passage out to deep water. The wind was still strong from the north with a northwest swell causing the waves to crash on the outer reefs sending spray high into the sky. But inside the reefs there was only a slight chop.