Way back in the 1850s, the wise Indian Chief Seattle (clearly an early environmentalist) said, “Take only memories, leave nothing but footprints.” The words remain true for today’s bareboaters: Take memories, leave nothing.  

But how do you take memories, and which ones should you take? First, choose memories that will last. A bottle of wine or liquor brought home is a wonderful remembrance…once. Sorry, Mr. Pusser, but it’s better to soak off the label so that you can remember it long after the bottle is dry. Tip: Soak the bottle in warm water in the sink, and then gently ease off the label. Or tie the empty bottle (securely) and hang it in the water overnight. The label will come off easily. 

The same goes for local T-shirts. They’re great fun at the time, but, like a bottle of wine, they don’t last. We have many dusting rags that were once a not-inexpensive T-shirt.

A logbook or diary is the absolute minimum. We have bareboat diaries that date back decades. Each one is a fun read that brings a flood of memories of sights and sounds, mistakes and recoveries. Pick up simple notebooks (with a pen attached) at the local dollar store, and give them to everyone aboard, including the kids. Tell your crew to include everything: descriptions, sketches, even tracings of a special shell.

Next on the list is a simple waterproof camera. Again, everyone on board should have one and should be told to immortalize memories—from the breezy rail-down sail to the steak someone dropped in the sand. Shoot from dawn to dark. You can sort and edit when you get home. For now, leave nothing undocumented, and don’t be shy about selfies with your crew.

You can find an Ausek underwater camera for $42 or so, or the Polaroid 16-megapixel underwater camera for about $49. Either is well worth the investment for pointing and shooting. 

Bring clear plastic bags to stash your treasures. Grab a handful of sand from your favorite beach. A few shells can be keepsakes, but be absolutely certain no little creatures are still inside them. Colorful pebbles and sea glass will also add to your mementos.

When it comes to paper memories, get creative. Grab the brochures from the ferry, resort, marina, and restaurants where you dine. These make great scrapbook additions. I’m not sure what this means, but bar coasters and cocktail napkins populate our collection and readily stir memories. Pick up postcards at local shops and marinas. Every bareboat destination is near a post office with colorful stamps. 

Bric-a-brac and trinkets are also great. I have a friend who has a keychain from every charter destination, and another who buys shot glasses (certainly more practical). Refrigerator magnets and souvenir plates all fit into this category to put on a shelf (or use) for memory lane.

Artwork is a delightful reminder of a trip. At your check-out briefing, ask if there are any street art shows in the area. A watercolor or sketch from a local artist is a perfect memory for your wall at home.

In local shops, you’ll find pins and iron-on badges for every destination. We have a friend who collects tiny bells from every European charter. Snow globes are fun, but beware: They quickly add up in your luggage weight.

Books aren’t light, but you can find small photo books of your destination that are packable. Also keep your eye open for local recipe books that will help you re-create some of the foods you enjoyed on your charter. As with the wine labels, take the labels off foods you cooked aboard (and that scalded everyone’s tongue with local spices).  

At the end of your charter, don’t trade in all your money. Keep a few small-denomination bills and some coins as great memory-makers.

On your charter, think ahead in terms of how you’ll use these mementos at home, such as in a scrapbook or in a shadowbox frame hung on a wall, or displayed flat on a coffee table. Our walls are covered with shadow-box frames memorializing various bareboat adventures. Several have the sand we brought home, glued to the inner backing, and then we hot-glued or taped in a mélange of photos, shells, pebbles, ticket stubs, and anything else that sparked a memory.

Personally, I like being able to glance at a frame on the wall, but many bareboaters prefer to create a scrapbook of their adventure. Craft stores have entire sections devoted to scrapbooking, including albums of all sizes, filler pages that make short work of photos, and other paper items. This approach leaves the question of what to do with your shells, so our house has several glass bowls filled with a worldwide collection of shells and pebbles on a base of sand.

Whatever you do, plan ahead to create memories that will last a lifetime. To ­paraphrase Chief Seattle, you’ll not only have the ­memories, but you’ll also see your ­footprints forever.

The post Charter Life: Making Memories and Bringing Them Home appeared first on Cruising World.

Aaron Maynard owns an electric-­bike shop in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, where a customer came in one day seeking a folding bike. 

“I asked him specifically why he wanted a folding bike because we sell many models,” Maynard says. “He said that he and his wife were going to sell their house and their belongings, and move onto a sailboat for a few years. After he left, I looked up ‘45-foot sailboat’ online. What I saw totally enthralled me. I began researching boats nonstop. I ordered a catalog from The Moorings and read it from cover to cover. In the back of the catalog, there was information about learning to sail.”

The next day, Maynard called Offshore Sailing School and signed up himself and his wife, Michele, for a certification class. They had never set foot on a sailboat when they attended the Offshore Sailing School at the South Seas Island Resort on Captiva Island, Florida, in 2018, joining the increasingly large ranks of people who are taking certification courses either to learn the basics or to gain advanced skills.

And make no mistake: It’s far from just newbies like the Maynards signing up for classes these days. For boat ­owners, some insurance companies require sailing certifications, and some charter companies have tightened up certification ­requirements for bareboat sailing as well. 

John Gaston was an experienced sailor and boat owner who had completed basic and intermediate cruising certification courses in Canada. He was looking for advanced cruising certification when he came across Barefoot Offshore Sailing School in St. Vincent and the Grenadines. He knew the school’s instructor, Rob McLean, who was associated with the courses in Ontario. Gaston signed up and completed his Sail Canada Advanced and Offshore courses in the southern Caribbean.

“I find that taking sailing courses provides excellent training to prepare for situations and response options,” he says. “I would rather learn from other people’s training and experience because you don’t know what you don’t know. A sailing course tends to be a safe and controlled environment.”

Taking the classes helped the Maynards and Gaston live their sailing dreams. The Maynards went on to complete multiple certifications, purchased a yacht and placed it in a BVI charter fleet, and have chartered 14 times over the years. They also bought a boat that they keep closer to home. Gaston recently completed an offshore sail-training trans-Atlantic crossing. 

Class Is In

No matter what sailing interests students have these days, there are classes available to help them achieve their goals. The American Sailing Association has certified close to 600,000 sailors at more than 400 sailing schools around the globe. 

Jonathan Payne, executive director of ASA, says that he sees two common paths in ASA sailing education. “One, someone takes in interest in local sailing courses. They make a long-term commitment to learn at a sailing school near where they live and attend weekend classes,” Payne says. This typically takes six weeks.

The second path, he says, is a ­weeklong destination school. “This is a full-­immersion, intensive course where students do a fair amount of study before arriving,” he says. “Once they are there, they are in class and running maneuvers sunup to sundown. The skill-building happens on the water.”

Of the two paths, the sailor who studies locally over a longer period might build a broader base of knowledge, while the other might be looking for a deep dive into the aspects of chartering. “A student in a course stretched out over six weeks might learn more about sail trim and sail theory, whereas someone on board a boat 24 hours a day might learn more about seamanship, bilges, and troubleshooting the engine,” he says. “There are certain things that happen on the water when you’re living on a boat. You have the opportunity to learn ­problem-solving in the moment.”

For the ASA local courses, Basic Keelboat Sailing (ASA 101) teaches skills inside a marina. Basic Coastal Cruising (ASA 103) takes the student outside the marina, and up and down the coast. Bareboat Cruising (ASA 104) is required to charter a boat.

“You can learn to sail in Colorado on your weekends, or sign up for a charter yacht in Greece,” Payne says. “There are a lot of options.”

US Sailing, the governing body for the sport of sailing in the United States, offers similar building-block tracks: Basic Keelboat, Basic Cruising and Bareboat Cruising.

Doris and Steve Colgate, founders of US Sailing-certified Offshore Sailing School, come from a racing background and have more than 160,000 graduates in over 60 years of teaching. Offshore offers one-week training courses in Florida and the British Virgin Islands, where students earn certifications for boats up to 50 feet. 

Students attend for a variety of reasons, according to Beth Oliver, vice president and director of sales and marketing. Some are new to sailing. Others are veteran sailors who want to experience the BVI. “These are people who either want to charter on their own, or who are considering purchasing a yacht and living aboard,” Oliver says. “They’re adventure-seekers with an active lifestyle, and want to share this enthusiasm with like-minded people. Many of our students are highly educated professionals, so continual learning is important to them. They like to share their skills with family and friends. Many want to pass on the sailing lifestyle to their children and grandchildren as a sort of legacy.”

 For those who want to charter, Offshore offers a combination course: Fast Track to Cruising. “We like to say that we can take you from your couch to the captain’s chair in one week,” Oliver says. Textbooks are sent in advance, and students arrive at class prepared to learn.

Offshore is the official sailing school of The Moorings, one of the world’s largest charter companies. The Moorings offers Offshore Sailing School courses in the BVI and Royal Yachting Association courses in the Mediterranean, according to Amanda Kurland, charter sales representative for The Moorings and Sunsail. These sister companies offer several levels of courses in multiple places. Sunsail has destination sailing schools in the United Kingdom, Croatia, Greece, Australia and Grenada.

Some people do the training because they want to purchase their own boat when they retire, Kurland says. Others are jumping from lake sailing to ocean ­sailing. Still others have the goal to ­charter a bareboat.

Blue Water Sailing School, an ­ASA-certified school in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, offers destination sail ­training charters closer to home. These are seven-day liveaboard courses where the vessels anchor out at night. Classes are available in Florida, Rhode Island, the Virgin Islands and the Bahamas. 

Blue Water owner David Pyle says that he also finds two basic groups of people looking for sail training: those who want to go cruising on their own boat someday and those who want to charter. “We try to get students to a point where they’re comfortable, confident and safe on a boat,” Pyle says. “It’s kind of like getting a pilot’s license to fly a small plane. You can get the training and certification, but of course you want to be safe and competent before you fly a plane on your own.”

Pyle says that approximately 15 to 20 percent of basic-level students return later for advanced courses. “We get a lot of people who have this goal to purchase their own boat,” he says. “They want to see if this is for them. I was just talking to a couple from Nebraska. They’ve never sailed, and they’re interested in finding out if this is for them. This is not uncommon.”

Pyle and Oliver agree that the most challenging aspect for students is often the amount of material they need to learn. Most students are also fairly anxious when it comes to docking. “Students who have been away from testing for a while might get nervous about the written-test ­component, but our instructors determine each student’s learning levels and preferences, and work with them individually, quizzing everyone each day on topics, so most are very comfortable by the time they take the written tests,” Oliver says.

There’s a lot of repetition and refreshing as the course goes along. Some students fear that they lack the physical strength for sailing work, but the sailboats have equipment such as winches to assist the student with maneuvers. Other students have a general fear of the water and ­seasickness, but most of that can be overcome with time on the boat.

Pyle says that it’s not uncommon to work with sailors who have had smaller boats, such as a 25-foot boat on a lake, but now want to go coastal sailing on a 40-foot monohull or offshore sailing on a 50-foot catamaran.

West Coast Multihulls in San Diego runs a sailing school with training on multihulls. Students who complete AS 101, 103 and 104 can take ASA 114: Cruising Catamaran Certification. It’s a five-day liveaboard class offered around Catalina Island and in the Sea of Cortez.

“We are catamaran experts with the largest sailing catamaran fleet on the West Coast,” says Guinevere King, general manager at West Coast Multihulls. “People come to our school to learn how to sail catamarans and experience the liveaboard cruising lifestyle in Southern California and in the Sea of Cortez.”

Most students want to get ASA 114 certifications while building their sailing resumes so that they can bareboat charter. “We also have a large percentage of our students who are looking to buy a catamaran and cruise the world with family and friends.”

 West Coast Multihulls also offers ASA 105 and 106 advanced courses for experienced sailors. The company recently added ASA 107 and 108, which cover celestial navigation and passagemaking.

“Our instructors share their knowledge and expertise with their students in a supportive environment,” Kurland says. “Our students gain confidence and invaluable real-world experience on board, which you can’t replicate by watching a YouTube video.” 

Barefoot Offshore Sailing School ­instructor McClean says that because there are so many levels and types of courses available, he doesn’t see a typical student but rather a thread that links them all. It’s people who want to sail, who want to live on a boat and learn for a week, who want to go offshore.

“Fifteen percent of our students are new to sailing,” he says. “Forty to 50 percent have already taken an initial course and are there to advance their skills.” The school welcomes all levels, he says, “but we do encourage people to take that first level at home. Someone can get far more out of their investment if they can learn the basics of tacking and jibing before coming to the Grenadines. It’s an ideal location for learning. You’re exposed to 8- to 15-knot winds, waves offshore off the islands, and a guaranteed variety of good winds.”

McClean says that the most important skill, in any context, is ensuring the safety of the crew and skipper. Other tough skills for students include navigating in ­unfamiliar waters, understanding weather, and anchoring at night. “Probably the most challenging [skill] we teach is crew-overboard drills,” he says, adding that students practice in multiple circumstances at multiple times. “If you’re not confident on all points of sail and you can’t manage a beam reach, then you need training and practice.”

After the introductory and ­intermediate courses, some students apply for advanced courses, including sailing at night. Some want to learn offshore sailing on a trans-Atlantic course. “We have a discussion with them to verify that this a good match for them,” McClean says. “The last thing they want is to wake up and find that this is the last place they want to be.” 

Award-winning journalist Theresa Nicholson is CW’s senior editor.

The post Back to School: Sailing Education Benefits Everyone From Beginners to Offshore Racers appeared first on Cruising World.

Set amid the azure waters of the Caribbean, the British Virgin Islands has long been a coveted destination for sun-seeking adventurers. With its vibrant coral reefs, quiet coves, and lively beach bars, the BVI is synonymous with relaxation and indulgence. 

The BVI is also renowned for its tourist attractions and well-­trodden paths, which is why, on a recent charter, our group of experienced charterers intentionally strayed from the familiar hotspots. In doing so, we found a side of the BVI that produced memories and stories anew. These newfound (to us) destinations offered a fresh glimpse into the singular charm of the BVI, which are just waiting to be discovered by intrepid souls who dare to look a little farther.

Sandy Spit

As the waves gently caressed the sides of our dinghy, I took a deep breath and gazed ahead at Sandy Spit, a tiny gem nestled in the heart of the British Virgin Islands. The sun painted a golden path on the water, as if guiding my wife and me toward a paradise we’d long dreamed of.

As the dinghy kissed the ­beachline, I leaped onto the ­pristine sands with anticipation and wonder, feeling the warmth radiating through my toes. Our friends had dropped us off for a few hours, promising to return later to whisk us away to the next destination on the itinerary. But for now, Sandy Spit was ours alone.

The island, barely more than a sandbar, stretched out in all directions, adorned with only a few swaying palm trees and a blanket of powdery white sand. The sand was cool and velvety, a luxurious carpet leading toward our own private sanctuary. We knew in a moment that this tiny island ­epitomized paradise in its purest form. It was a rare gift, a slice of heaven carved out just for us.

A simple isle merits simple pleasures, which, for us, included a charming picnic of tropical fruits, and the discovery of seashells and treasures that had washed up on the shore. Surrounded on all sides by majestic blue water and the beautifully jagged landscape of the BVI beyond it, it felt like we were all alone in the world’s most storied charter playground. Even today, when stress starts to get the better of me, I close my eyes and return to that perfect day on that tiny isle where time stood still.

Salt Island

A tiny droplet of moisture traced a path down my forehead while I leaned over the front of the RIB, maneuvering the painter to secure the dinghy to the mooring line near Black Rock Point on Salt Island. Submerged in the clear, shimmering water below were the remnants of the Rhone, a majestic steamship once belonging to the Royal Mail service. Its demise occurred during a hurricane back in 1867. 

With the dinghy secured and dive flag deployed, I glanced behind me for lurking jellyfish and then rolled backward off the dink, plunging into the bathlike water. An extraordinary world revealed itself: the vibrant dance of skittish reef fish, the kaleidoscope of corals in full bloom, and the whimsical sea turtle that was blissfully unaware of the concept of ­personal space. I swear that I almost heard the whispers of the 123 lost souls, as if they were keenly observing my every movement. It was ­haunting as each kick drove me deeper into the unknown, extending the boundaries of my comfort zone. 

While the Rhone is one of the most-sought-after diving destinations in the BVI, few charterers take the time to explore adjacent Salt Island, a place steeped in history and shrouded in mystery. Walking along the deserted shores, I felt a sense of awe as I discovered the remnants of salt pans that once served as the island’s lifeblood. I imagined the toil and perseverance of the salt miners of old. The weight of their stories added a layer of depth to the experience. 

History enthusiasts can learn a lot here about cultural heritage and the significance of salt production in shaping the region’s economy—not to mention escape from the crowds while reveling in the island’s seldom-touched beauty.

Fallen Jerusalem

As tourists flocked to the iconic giant boulders of the Baths on Virgin Gorda, I sought a quieter and more intimate experience. I’d heard whispers of a secluded cove nearby named Fallen Jerusalem, so we sailed across the channel toward it, accompanied by playful dolphins that danced in our wake. 

Approaching the shore, we were greeted not by other charterers, but instead by towering cliffs draped with vibrant greenery, framing a pristine beach. A leisurely stroll along the shoreline revealed hidden tide pools teeming with vibrant marine life. These natural pools, like tiny windows into an underwater world, offered a unique opportunity to observe colorful fish and delicate coral formations up close. 

Fallen Jerusalem has captivating underwater caves and grottoes that ­snorkelers and divers can explore under a cloak of solitude. The surrounding waters are protected as a marine sanctuary, ensuring the preservation of the island’s underwater ecosystem and contributing to ­sustainable tourism practices. 

Spring Bay

Spring Bay is a frequently overlooked beachcomber’s paradise. Sprinkled (although less liberally) with the same awe-inspiring granite boulders as its famous neighbor, the Baths, Spring Bay’s sprawling beachline offers a sense of peaceful grandeur. The soft white sands, calm waters, and swaying palm trees make it an idyllic spot to unwind with a Painkiller cocktail in hand and without the distractions of crowds.  

We had heard rumors of the great beaches surrounding the Baths, but nothing could have prepared us for the expanse of powdery white sand that ­greeted us like a welcoming carpet, nestled perfectly in the island’s lee. Turquoise waters lapped gently against the shore, inviting us to dip our toes and settle into a lovely, lazy beach day. We set up camp beneath the shade of a towering palm tree and spread out our beach towels to enjoy a picnic lunch and some tasty libations from our own galley, which was on the hook about a hundred feet off the shoreline. We reveled in the warm embrace of the ocean, our laughter echoing off the rocks as we played in the cove like carefree children. Donning snorkeling gear, we were instantly transported to a world teeming with schools of fish darting around us, and delicate coral formations posing as intricate sculptures. 

After a few carefree hours, Spring Bay became more than a beach to us; it was a cherished memory. Later, basking in the warm afterglow of a day well spent, we recalled how boat after boat had cruised right on by this picture-perfect setting on final approach to the Baths, without so much as a glance. Ah, their loss. 

Anegada’s North Shore

To go or not to go? That is always the question about Anegada, especially if it involves motorsailing for several hours head-to-wind. Weather permitting, I say go, but not just for the food. It’s easy to become captivated by the island’s succulent lobster and breathtaking beaches, however, the hidden gems along the north shore truly make this stopover a must-do. 

First off, because the lengthy offshore trek to get there isn’t for everyone, Anegada allows you to escape the crowds. The beaches are the epitome of ­untouched beauty, with fine white sands that stretch for miles and gin-clear waters that seem to merge with the sky. But the crown jewels of the north shore are its thriving coral reefs. Snorkeling or diving in these waters offers a glimpse into an underwater wonderland where colorful fish dance amid massive, shallow coral formations. The ­abundance and ­diversity of marine life will leave you in awe, making for an ­unforgettable adventure.

Anegada is a relatively small island, so getting around is straightforward. To reach the north shore, rent a moped or an RV. Driving along the quiet roads allows you to soak it all in at your own pace, and you’ll have the freedom to explore the hidden coves and secluded beaches that dot the coastline. Make sure to visit Cow Wreck Beach and Loblolly Bay, two secluded stretches of pristine shoreline with world-class reefs for snorkeling. As the sun begins to set, make your way to Flamingo Pond Lookout to witness majestic flamingos in their natural habitat. 

After a day on Anegada, you’ll probably have worked up a healthy appetite for the legendary lobster. To the victors belong the spoils. 

The post Make Memories in the British Virgin Islands’ Channels Less Traveled appeared first on Cruising World.

There is an old saying in the Abacos: “Some people, most mules and all dinghies are nothin’ but trouble.” I learned to believe in this saying during one of my early charters in the British Virgin Islands. We were towing a hard-bottom dinghy from Tortola to Norman Island. Everything was fine until someone asked, “Hey, where’s the dinghy?”

The tender had been at the end of a long painter made of yellow braided polypropylene, which the charter company used because it supposedly floats, making it harder for bareboaters to wrap it around their props. The fact is that this material is also one of nature’s slipperiest substances. As we slapped and splashed along, it was slipping off the cleat until it was gone.

Luckily, we were able to sail back and find the tender before it became an embarrassingly expensive addition to our charter bill. But here’s the thing I particularly remember: Once we had the retrieved tender in tow, it tried to get away again. We put that yellow poly line on the stern cleat, but, as I watched it, it would slip out an inch at a time. I ended up throwing a bowline in the extra line around a stanchion, just to make sure it didn’t get away.  

The most dangerous moments on your bareboat charter are not going to be tiptoeing through a shallow harbor entrance or dealing with a passing squall. They’re going to be with your tender: getting in or out, beaching it, hoisting it out of the water. 

Here’s a look at some ­hard-won wisdom about dealing with tenders.

At Your Charter Checkout

If you have a choice, always ask for a RIB. This type of boat combines the best of ­inflatables and hard-bottom tenders: a solid bottom for beaching and a soft side to protect your hull. 

Always—always—start the outboard before leaving the charter base, and make sure the motor is spitting out water. Ask the checkout person if there are any idiosyncrasies with the engine: Employees know this stuff and can save you grief later. Ask about the proper fuel mix too. Some outboards need an oil/fuel mixture. And make sure the fuel tank is full.

Other gear you should have in your tender includes a painter long enough for towing, an anchor (probably a folding grapnel style), oars or paddles, a bailer, a safety kill switch for the outboard that you hook to your wrist or jacket, and a dive flag to alert other boats that you are snorkeling.

Launching the Tender

Modern charter boats often have sophisticated systems that let you launch and retrieve a tender with the touch of a button. Still, always hang on to the painter when launching, or have it secured to the boat. Once you remove the hoisting clips, the tender can skitter away very quickly. And, once you’ve removed the lines from the hoisting system, clip them someplace secure. Otherwise (and I guarantee this), they’ll bang you hard on the forehead when you aren’t watching.

Boarding the ­Tender

The first order of business is to secure the tender solidly, which means using bow and stern lines to keep it at the mothership’s stern. Trying to step into a tender, even from a water-level platform, is asking for trouble. Leave your ego for somewhere else: squat, scoot, kneel, crawl or find a way to slither aboard safely. Graceful? No. Dry and safe? Yes.

Using the Tender

Too many people get aboard, cast off, and start the outboard—in that order. They are the ones often paddling upwind to get back to the boat when the outboard doesn’t start. Start the outboard first, then cast off.

One absolute rule for using your tender: Don’t drink and dink. Tenders are squirrelly enough without you adding to the silliness. 

Before you leave your bareboat, always make sure the engine clamps are tight, because an afternoon of being towed can cause them to loosen. Make sure you have the oars or paddles aboard, check the fuel level, and, if you’re going to a beach, have the outboard ready to tilt up. Some outboards have complicated (and finger-pinching) tilt locks that you don’t want to leave until the last moment.

Tender Sense

Before you leave your bareboat, even if you think it’s only for a quick trip, turn on some lights. This will make finding your mothership easier on a dark night. I know one crew who ended up sleeping on the beach because they couldn’t find their boat. I always take a handheld VHF radio on my bareboat charters, just for use in the tender. If the outboard dies, you can call for help. And, if you’re letting the kids take the tender, they can check in with you on a regular basis.

Nonswimmers, or anyone nervous, should always wear a life jacket. Even if you’re not wearing them, they still have to be aboard. You don’t want to receive an expensive citation for failing to have PFDs. 

Never start the outboard unless you have the safety kill switch firmly around your wrist or snapped to your jacket. Don’t even think about what a turning prop can do to someone in the water. Wear the lanyard.

Beaching

Getting your tender onto a beach safely is a test of your seamanship. If there are ­breakers, find another way. You may be Surfer Joe, but a tender is a lot more unwieldy than any surfboard. Find a quiet cove, or anchor offshore and swim ashore.  

Forget about staying dry. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve arrived on shore bone-dry. There are two popular ways to get the tender ashore. One is to make a run at the shore and, as you get close, tilt the outboard up to protect the prop. With the bow high (passengers leaning aft), you’ll slide onto the beach, and someone at the bow can jump out to hold the boat. The other way is to get close, shut off the engine, step into knee-deep water, and slide the tender onto the beach.  

Either way, don’t let ­anyone get between tender and beach. A sudden swell can send the tender into their legs, knocking them down and even breaking bones. Until you get the tender solidly on dry sand, treat it like a wild animal that might turn on you.

And once you’re at the beach? Tie your tender to something solid. If there isn’t a big rock or a tree nearby, use your anchor and set it solidly. There is this thing called “tide.” When it comes in, it loves to take tenders away.  

Towing

Aside from the warning about slippery yellow lines, towing should be straightforward. First, remove all the gear (snorkels, masks, etc.) from the tender. Then, let out the tender to a point where it is riding comfortably behind the mothership.  

When you are starting to maneuver, such as dropping anchor or picking up a mooring buoy, assign one person to do nothing but be the Tender Tender. Take in the painter so that you won’t suck it into the props. The Tender Tender can move it from side to side if you’re docking.  

Putting the Tender to Bed

Tenders can be like friendly pets in the middle of the night: They like to nuzzle their master, usually on the hull right next to where you’re sleeping. 

One solution is to tie a ­bucket off the stern of the tender, to encourage it to keep its distance. Another option, if there is room, is to tie the ­tender to your mooring buoy and then drop back for separation.

Tenders: We can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em. Common sense and some precautions make them a lot easier to have around. 

Award-winning journalist Chris Caswell is editor and publisher of chartersavvy.com. He has been bareboat chartering for more than five decades. 

The post Managing the Dinghy While on Charter appeared first on Cruising World.

About Barefoot Yacht Charters

Barefoot Yacht Charters offers premiere chartering experiences in St. Vincent & The Grenadines, whether you are interested in a trusted skipper showing you the way or taking the helm for yourself. Choose from multiple types of itineraries, including Adventure, Romance, Family or Endless Summer. St. Vincent & The Grenadines is comprised of 32 islands and cays to explore, including Young Island, Bequia, Mustique, Canouan, Union Island, Mayreau, Petit St. Vincent and Palm Island. Each itinerary has something unique to offer – from scuba diving wrecks and walls, to visits to secluded beaches and must-visit bars/restaurants. 

If you’re looking to learn, freshen up your skills or add onto them, there’s BOSS (Barefoot Offshore Sailing School). This school is St. Vincent & The Grenadines’ longest established, with a full range of ASA certifications.  

And when you’re back on dry land, grab a drink and a bite to eat at Driftwood Restaurant & Lounge, offering Mediterranean cuisine with a Caribbean Flair.

Barefoot Yacht Charters has all you need both on the sea and on land!

Local Knowledge, Since 1902

Philip Barnard’s family arrived in St. Vincent and the Grenadines more than a century ago, in 1902. His grandfather sailed the local waters. His father then grew up on local boats, and his mother started Barefoot Charters in 1991—an unusual, if not monumental, achievement for a woman in those days. Barnard followed his family’s lead and, today, owns the company known for its well-developed charter base and sailing school.

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Interested in taking a sailing vacation? Start here! We’ve put together a guide on charter types, locations, qualifications and more.

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For some reason, flotilla charters seem to have a stigma attached to them, especially among experienced bareboat charter skippers.

“I don’t want to be led through the islands like a string of rubber duckies,” one sailor says. Another says: “I want the freedom to run my own boat, sleep late when I want, and stop for a snorkel.” Yet another: “Flotilla charters are just for beginners, and I don’t want to be slowed down.”

Those are three common misunderstandings that have kept flotilla charters from being as popular with North American charterers as they are with Europeans, who embrace flotillas as a great vacation choice.

The very word, flotilla, seems vaguely military and suggests a group of boats being herded along by a mothership. Nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, many companies now label flotillas as “social charters” because it’s a more accurate description.

Social chartering in Europe is just as popular with experienced charterers as it is with first-timers. In fact, many charterers with years of bareboating return from their first social charter asking, “Why didn’t we do this earlier?”

Here’s how a social charter works: A charter company puts together a package for a particular destination, such as the British Virgin Islands, for a dozen or so boats. An itinerary is laid out to include the most interesting stops, where special events are planned.

 All well and good, but it’s here that experienced sailors start getting antsy, because cruising along with most flotillas is a team (on their own boat) from the charter company, including a captain, engineer and host/hostess. Often called the “lead crew,” this threesome is one of the elements that makes social chartering so special.

The captain is a local who provides a briefing for the skippers every morning, going over the charts and discussing a general plan for the day. The engineer or service tech is there to make sure that everything works perfectly. And the host/hostess? They are there to take care of special events and help with individual plans.

The captain’s briefing each morning sets out the general plan for the day, but one of the best parts is the discussion of all the attractions along the way: a great lunch cove, a reef for snorkeling, or perhaps a perfect beach. The itinerary is flexible and you’re free to move as you please, but with the reassurance of having the lead crew nearby.

Do you have to sail along with the other boats? Of course not. Each skipper plans the adventures for the day, depending on the crew’s preferences.

When you arrive at the day’s destination, the lead crew will lend a hand with your anchoring (at your request) but, once settled, you’re on your own. Barbecue on board, visit a local restaurant (with reservations made by the host/hostess) or simply enjoy sundowners in your own cockpit.

It’s called social chartering for a reason. You’ll meet and mingle with other crews who all share one thing: They love bareboating. Friendships have been made during social charters that last for years, and that have led to future social charters together. I know of one marriage that resulted from college kids who met during their parents’ social charter.

Part of the fun of social chartering is meeting up with everyone at your destination for dinners, beach picnics, or a progressive party with ­munchies on one boat and ­everything from salad to dessert on others.  

But, you ask, won’t we miss out on some destinations with a social charter? Not likely. In fact, because the lead crew is intimately familiar with this area, you’ll probably get more out of a social charter than if you were doing it on your own without their local knowledge.

Some flotilla charters are more choreographed but to your advantage. The Moorings, for example, offers several Italian Cuisine Flotillas to explore the food and wine of the Amalfi Coast. Kicked off with a pizza party, the fleet ­harbor-hops with dinners—from apéritif to tiramisu—ashore in the evenings. The flotilla also provides transfers to ­restaurants and wineries, and a cook aboard one day to teach boaters how to prep an Italian meal.

Social charters are ­perfect for kids too. They meet other youngsters to share their explorations. Some charter companies, such as Sunsail, often include a kids’ activity coordinator on social charters during school holidays. This youth leader takes the youngsters off on adventures so that the parents can have some time for themselves. Whether it’s hunting pirate treasure on an island to staging a kids-only barbecue onshore, this service is a part of a social charter.

For first-time charterers, social charters are a great way to hone basic boating skills. The lead crew is always available to help with anchoring and departures, as well as to provide support and local knowledge along the way. Freshwater pump acting up? It’s fixed in a jiffy from the spare parts and tools the lead crew has.  

For experienced skippers dipping their toes into a new charter destination, a social charter provides the benefit of local knowledge. No matter how much you’ve planned or how many cruising guides you’ve studied, nothing gives you more confidence than going over a chart with someone discussing their home waters.   

Social charters really are the perfect recipe for fun: a blend of independent bareboating with an unobtrusive support team. You enjoy the privacy of your own boat but benefit from a wealth of local knowledge provided by the lead crew.

Social chartering: It’s the best of bareboating. 

Chris Caswell is the editor of CharterSavvy, the free online magazine devoted to bareboat chartering.

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“Aww, c’mon man, don’t let us be that boat!”

I shouted at myself as I cranked the wheel and goosed the throttles, sending the Lagoon 42 Sjevernjaca into a wide, lumbering 360-degree turn. We had to get out of the path of a powered-up race boat that was bearing down on us. 

Standing next to me at the raised helm station was my old sailing mate Dave Robinson. “Oh, that one’s going to be trouble too,” he said three-quarters of the way around the circle, pointing at a sailboat that tacked close to shore and was now headed our way.

I spun the wheel hard again and searched for an open path through the oncoming traffic. The seas were lumpy off the rocky entrance of Antigua’s English Harbour.

It was Day Two of Antigua Sailing Week, which we’d come to watch, not participate in—though now, apparently, we were in the thick of it. Dream Yacht Charters was a sponsor of the event, and when they suggested that I take in a bit of the action and then sail off to see the rest of the island, well, how could I say no? 

We had started two days earlier at the charter base just up the coast in Jolly Harbour. On the last Saturday in April, after provisioning at Epicurean Fine Foods & Pharmacy and then waiting for a leaking faucet to be replaced, we got a late start. Our destination was Falmouth Harbour, home to race headquarters and the first stop on a counterclockwise, weeklong circumnavigation of the island. At the chart briefing that morning, besides a rundown of must-see bays and coves (and a review of the island’s many reefs to avoid), we were told two things: Be on a mooring or anchored an hour ­before sunset, and keep clear of the 85-boat Sailing Week fleet.

With the first advisory top of mind, we motored out the channel in midafternoon, hung a left in open water, and made a beeline for Goats Head Channel, staying inside the reef on the island’s southwestern side. To my surprise—given that this year’s Sailing Week was the first at Antigua after a two-year pandemic hiatus—Falmouth Harbour was not all that crowded. We had no problem picking up one of the Antigua Yacht Club’s guest moorings, relatively close to its dinghy dock. It turns out the bulk of the racers preferred to crowd into adjacent English Harbour, home to Nelson’s Dockyard and a number of marine facilities.

Ashore, we learned that the opening-­night party, to which we’d been invited, had been canceled because of pending weather. The bar was open, though, and the drinks were flowing. Decked out in team colors, sailors clinked bottles and glasses as regattas past were toasted. Outside, several race boats were tied along the docks, their crews offloading gear in preparation for Sunday’s opening race. And on a nearby waterfront stage, the Original Steel Orchestra entertained one and all with a lively assortment of Caribbean tunes.

For dinner, we took a security guard’s advice and walked a short way to the Life on the Corner Bar & Grill, which served up a spicy chicken curry that demanded to be washed down with cold Caribes, followed by a sweet rum punch. The street outside was busy and loud. Back on the boat, we sat forward on the tramp and enjoyed a ringside seat.

Sailing Week, according to its president, Alison Sly-Adams, marks the end of the Caribbean’s regatta season. It started in 1968 as a reason for yachts and crews to stay just a bit longer before heading north, out of hurricane danger or back to Europe. This year’s event was the 53rd regatta, offering racing action to a wide array of sailors. Boats ranged from thoroughbreds such as the Volvo 65 Ambersail 2 and the Volvo 70 Ocean Breeze to mom-and-pop cruisers to a fleet of 29 chartered bareboats. There were 15 classes in all, assigned to two starting areas just to the east and west of the entrance to Falmouth Harbour. 

We joined the eastbound parade of boats Sunday morning to watch a few of the big-boat starts. The action began at 10, with classes taking off at ­five-minute intervals. By the second tack, the front-runners in each heat were lost in the Caribbean haze, so eventually we headed over to the B Fleet’s windward mark and puttered around, watching the spinnaker-­optional cruising and bareboat classes at work. With a broach here, an hourglass chute there and a few collisions with the inflatable buoy, it was all entertaining enough.

The trade winds were forecast to be sporty throughout the week, and they were. After a long morning of bouncing about in the resulting swell, our crew embraced the idea of returning to the mooring to take in a little more of what Falmouth had to offer. We had an invitation to a rum party being put on by Locman, the Italian watchmaker, and then grabbed a $12 cab to Shirley Heights a couple of hours before sunset for the infamous Sunday night jump-up party.

Even on a quite-hazy evening, the view of English and Falmouth harbors from atop Shirley Heights was breathtaking. The place was packed by the time we arrived, and a long line pointed the way to the barbecue pits, where cooks prepared chicken and ribs over wood and charcoal fires. Nearby, craftsmen laid out tables filled with wares. I watched a basket weaver make youngsters happy by fashioning fanciful hats for them out of palm fronds. The bar was busy too, serving libations to a mellow crowd of sailors content to sway to the Caribbean rhythms of the Halcyon Steel Orchestra. 

We watched twilight turn to dark and then headed back down to town, and from there to the boat for a hot dog feast cooked on a charcoal-fueled grill of our own. With the jump-up and Sailing Week visits crossed off the to-do list, we were ready to go exploring.

On the chart, it looked to be about 12 nautical miles to Nonsuch Bay, the first protected must-see anchorage on Antigua’s east coast that was not off-limits to Dream charterers. With just that seemingly short distance to go, we were in no hurry to get started. At the mooring, the breeze felt lighter than it had the day before, but as soon as we were outside and turned east to clear the tip of the island and proceed north, the trades were full-on, gusty and squarely in the no-sail zone of a big cruising cat. Three things became immediately apparent. First, we were in for a long, slow motorboat ride, pounding into ocean swells that made it hard to get boatspeed up to even 5 knots. Second, the A Fleet race committee had designed the day’s distance course to take several classes along the very same coast we needed to traverse. And third, we should have left a whole lot earlier in order to be out of their way.

For the better part of two hours, we played dodge ’em with incoming race boats. In all, it was a wet three-plus-hour slog up what was a textbook lee shore, with water pouring over the cabin top each time a bow buried itself in a wave or a squall rolled through. But still, it was a thrill to see the wildness of the sea, feel the power of the breeze, and take in the lush green hills and rocky outcrops that marked this part of Antigua. I’d do it again in a heartbeat, though perhaps not in the midst of a regatta.

Soon enough, we spotted a white structure on a headland that the cruising guide said looked like a lighthouse. Just past it lay the pass into Nonsuch Bay—a slice of deep water through outcroppings of rock and coral jutting out between the mainland and Green Island. As we turned and ran west, surfing down the ­wind-driven swells, the early-afternoon sun was high overhead, making it easy to spot the shallow spots. Closer to shore, the waves laid down, and once inside, though a gusty wind still blew, the water was calm. Relief!

Nonsuch Bay is a truly lovely place—my favorite spot of the week, I think. Inside, to the east and south, the hills are tall, with a few homes and resorts tumbling down to the water. Just past the entrance, there’s Middle Reef to skirt, with good water to either side. To the right, there were a couple of boats anchored off the northeast end of Green Island, and farther along, a handful more tucked in behind the reef.

We broke left and motored deep into the bay to what, on the chart, appeared to be a well-protected spot surrounded by mangroves in Ayres Creek. We dropped anchor in about 12 feet of water just off a resort dock, and then watched a cloud of mud billow up as we backed down and plowed the hook along the bottom.

Plan B? Head back to Green Island and anchor in sand. Besides way better holding, we found great entertainment, thanks to 40knots—a local watersports school that offers kite-, wing- and paddleboard lessons off the beach and from a sailboat anchored by the reef. We witnessed a variety of skills. There were soaring leaps and landings, as well as the occasional chase-boat rescue of a newbie blown astray. As for our crew, we grabbed masks and snorkels to sit on the beach at Green Island. Underwater, there wasn’t much to see, save for one enormous hermit crab. It was a good swim, though, on a hot afternoon.

Sunset that night was the best. The sun dipped below the hills to the south, and the water inside the reef was calm, the breeze steady. If cruising, this bay would be a place you might stay for days or weeks. Unfortunately, we were on rented time and had places to go.

Tuesday got off to another wet and bumpy start. We followed our track back out the pass, planning to motor upwind until we were clear of Green Island and could set sail for Horse Shoe Reef Channel and the entrance to Parham Sound at the north end of the island.

As we retraced our steps, the waves built as quickly as they’d subsided the day before. One roller caught me off guard, and rather than bearing off to take it on the forward quarter, Sjevernjaca plowed square in, burying both bows with a shudder. Stepping below, one of our crew discovered water in the hallway outside his forward cabin; inside it was more like an aquarium. A hull hatch had been left open. As if to prove a point about the power of hydrodynamics, the sea had sent remarkable amounts of water pouring in, soaking everything in its path.

At last in deeper water, the seas mellowed. We hauled up the main, cracked off, and rolled out the self-tending jib. Sailing, at last! It was a good 5-mile reach that began with breeze on the beam and ended up with us nearly on a run. 

The coast along this part of the island is low-lying, making it tricky to pick out landmarks. We searched for Prickly Pear—a sandy islet just offshore that serves as a range mark through Horse Shoe Reef Channel. Once we spotted it and made our turn, even with the aid of the chart plotter, the shallows to either side of the channel were hard to spot until we were nearly on top of them, but we made it through and followed the charted route south through reefs to the sandy beach at undeveloped Maiden Island. It turned out to be a good spot to swim and kick back. With the VC Bird International Airport across the way and boat traffic passing by, there was plenty to watch. Toward sunset, two cruising sailboats pulled in, but otherwise we had the place to ourselves.

In the morning, we set sail and picked our way back along the shore, passing inside Prickly Pear, bound for Boon Channel. The route kept us well off the reefs to the north. In daylight, with a chart plotter, this was an easy passage, but looking at the Imray Iolaire chart on board, I once again had a great appreciation for Don Street plying and charting these waters with a compass and lead line as he mapped and wrote his cruising guides aboard the engineless yawl Iolaire.

Our journey that day—and for the rest of the trip, for that matter—delivered a nice, but brief, sail. The distance from Maiden to Dickenson Bay is just 7.5 miles, and we flew along with the still-gusty trade winds behind us. Dickenson is home to Sandals and a couple of other all-inclusive resorts that dominate the long, crescent beach, but we found an open stretch at the south end and anchored there late morning in about 9 feet of water, near a thatched-roof raft known as the Kon Tiki Bar. 

After lunch and a swim, three of us were eager to go ashore and stretch our legs. With no good place to land or leave a dinghy, one of our crew dropped us at the beach, where we followed a rutted dirt road to a paved one. Resorts lined one side of the street; on the other, we strolled past a large pond and an abandoned miniature golf course, complete with a faded cruising catamaran that doubled as a hazard. A local pointed us in the direction of a small convenience store, saving us a long walk or cab ride to a market to replenish our dwindling stock of beer and chips. 

Later that afternoon, we visited the tiki bar—our first watering hole since Falmouth that wasn’t all-inclusive and that was open to non-guests. It was a lively place, and “Johnny from Denmark” ruled the bar. He was quick to serve us a cold Caribe when we stepped aboard from the inflatable.

Johnny had a tale to tell. He’d come to the island for a two-week visit 22 years earlier and, well, fell in love with the place. He managed a restaurant on the beach for several years but lost it when the owner died and it changed hands. Four years ago, he made good on a dream to build and open the Kon Tiki Bar along with his better half. The pandemic was a setback, and, added to that, he and his partner split up, he said. Now he gets the raft for a week, then takes his liquor home, and she brings her own booze for the next. “That’s just the way it goes,” he said with a shrug. “I’m working one week, then I have a week’s vacation.”

An assistant sat off to the side of the bar and manned a runabout to ferry visitors back and forth to shore if they didn’t want to make the short swim. As the day went on, the number of visitors grew and the music got louder. By the time we left, it was packed with a raucous crowd awaiting sunset.

Thursday was our last full day aboard Sjevernjaca, and as the crow flies, we didn’t have far to go to skirt the entrance to St. John’s Harbour and arrive at our next destination, Deep Bay. The breeze was still honking from the northeast and we were in no hurry, so we hoisted sail and struck out on a long reach out to sea and back, getting in a couple of hours of good sailing before dropping the hook.

Deep Bay was yet another lovely destination. As we motored in, we had no trouble spotting and avoiding the wreck of the Andes, a barque that had caught fire and sunk while carrying pitch to Chile in the early 1900s. Inside, we anchored in about 9 feet of water. 

The Royalton Antigua resort takes up the southern end of the beach, and a few small shops dot the shore, but most of the strand is backed by lush green shrubs that hide a salt pond behind. Ashore, we scrambled up the steep path to Fort Barrington, built by the British in 1779 on the headland overlooking the approach to St. John’s. The view was spectacular. We could just spy Montserrat through the afternoon haze, and we got a panoramic view of Antigua’s mountainous interior. 

Friday, we managed to create another extended sail for ourselves by reaching out past Sandy Island and its off-lying reef, and circling back to visit pretty Hermitage Bay and Five Islands Harbour, where the Shekerley Mountains tower over the anchorages. We stopped for lunch and a swim, and lingered as long as we could before motoring out and around the point, back to Jolly Harbour and the charter base. It had been a fine week with plenty of breeze for sailing, a happy crew, and sights to see. 

Saturday morning, as we cleaned the boat and packed, I spotted the crew from Talitha on the dock. I’d met them at the start of the week, when they were getting their rented Beneteau Oceanis 41.1 prepped for action. Skipper Jeff Dickinson along with the rest of the crew of eight all hailed from Aspen, Colorado, and are members of the Aspen Yacht Club. It was his third Caribbean regatta, he’d said. And of course, they expected to win their bareboat cruising class. 

“I love Antigua,” he told me. The pace of the regatta is just right: two to three hours of racing, then a party, plus a lay day for scuba diving.

So how did they fare? 

Well, they had fun. Dickinson was back at a rented condo where half of the crew had stayed at night. But his mates who returned the boat reported that Talitha was first over the line in three races—a victory of sorts—though they ended fifth overall on corrected time. One thing they were certain about: They’re coming back to race again. “Absolutely.”

Mark Pillsbury is a CW editor-at-large.

Charter Racing

Antigua Sailing Week is one of several Caribbean regattas that include a charter-­boat division. For this particular week of racing, Aspen, Colorado, skipper Jeff Dickinson said that charterers can’t request a particular boat and can’t campaign the same boat two years in a row. § Erin Minner, Dream Yacht Charter’s sales manager for the Americas, says that racers have a few other requirements to consider. The minimum charter time is 10 days. There is a race-pack charge that includes a more detailed boat briefing and a check to ensure that sails are in good shape. The base registers the boat with race officials. There is a regatta surcharge of approximately $2,000, depending on the boat and event, and the security deposit is doubled. Dream Yacht Charter lets its boats participate in Antigua Sailing Week, the Caribbean 600 and the BVI Spring Regatta. § If you’re planning to escape winter and go racing, check with the regatta and local charter bases for yacht availability.

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The Moorings, a leading charter company, has announced a partnership with US Sailing, the national governing body for sailing in the United States. The collaboration aims to bolster support for sailors and sailing organizations across the country.

As part of their commitment to promoting cruising and sailing worldwide, The Moorings will provide discounted rates on charters exclusively for US Sailing members. In addition, US Sailing Keelboat schools and students will receive an extra discount on their charters. To encourage more people to experience the thrill of sailing, US Sailing will offer four opportunities throughout the year for sailing community members to win their own charter.

US Sailing, also known as the United States Sailing Association, plays a vital role in leading, advancing, and maintaining the integrity of the sport in the United States. They offer comprehensive training and education programs for instructors and race officials, support various sailing organizations and communities, issue offshore rating certificates, and oversee competitive sailing events nationwide, including the prestigious National Championships and the US Sailing Team.

Alan Ostfield, CEO of US Sailing, expressed his enthusiasm about the partnership, stating, “US Sailing is proud to welcome The Moorings to our family of partners. Our primary goal is to introduce more people to the joy of being out on the water. With The Moorings’ exceptional charter services, both seasoned and inexperienced sailors can expect an unforgettable sailing adventure. We are thrilled to facilitate this opportunity for our members and the broader sailing community.”

Ian Pedersen, Senior Marketing Manager of The Moorings, shared his excitement about the collaboration, saying, “The Moorings is thrilled to partner with US Sailing and expand our efforts to promote sailing in the United States. Through this partnership, we aim to attract new audiences to the sailing community while strengthening the skills and confidence of existing sailors across the country. This will make charter vacations worldwide more accessible than ever. US Sailing is the perfect partner for this worthwhile mission.”

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I don’t want to give away anything, but I started bareboat chartering long before multihulls populated the charter fleets. In the Bahamas and the British Virgin Islands, bareboats were often tubby monohulls, either power or sail, and usually with single engines.

Luckily, I had a head start on my first multihull charter because I’d been racing beach catamarans like Hobies, and these provided me with valuable insights into the two-hulled world.

While the catamaran has gained in popularity by leaps and bounds over the past couple of decades, the design dates back centuries. At a time when much of the “civilized” world was still gazing at the sea with fear, the Polynesians were making incredible voyages over thousands of miles of open ocean aboard large, double-hulled voyaging canoes.

If you’re planning your first multihull charter after a lifetime of single-hulled boating, be thee prepared. There are significant differences between the two breeds that go far beyond having separated staterooms where you don’t hear everyone else snoring. 

Pardon the pun, but they are, indeed, a different breed of cat.

Basic Handling

Spin the wheel on a monohull, either power or sail, and things happen. Right away. 

Spin the wheel on any cat, and the response time is ­considerably slower. You won’t have time to go below for a coffee, but if the classic saying for skippers is, “Don’t take the boat anywhere your brain didn’t get to a minute earlier,” then the multihull version is probably “several minutes earlier.” 

Every change of direction, such as tacking, requires one hull to speed up and another to slow down. You’ll need to be ready for that sudden drag or you’ll stall midtack. And don’t expect to spin quickly in a marina.  

Close-Quarters Handling

There’s good news and bad news here, and the traits of a multihull will make themselves clear to you in your first minutes as you maneuver away from the charter base.  

Bad news: Cats don’t want to turn. Good news: Two hulls mean, in both power and sail, that you have two well-­separated engines, which gives you immense leverage to spin your boat.

Where a monohull may have to back-and-fill like a car turning around on a narrow street, a cat can spin in nearly its own length. The wide stance and twin engines allow an adept multihull skipper to get in and out of tight places. Learn to use the shifters to aid your turning, especially when you have spectators to impress.

Throttle ­Response

Because the hulls are so slim, a catamaran is much more responsive to the throttle.  

With a monohull pushing a lot of water (especially at maneuvering speeds), adding throttle doesn’t require subtlety. On a cat with little drag, however, be prepared for the boat to jump ahead. You’ll need to finesse the throttles in small increments.

Windage

Most cats (and particularly power cats) have more windage than similar monohulls. Even more important is that their often-shallow draft and absence of a traditional keel give them much less “bite” on the water when in crosswinds. Go slowly when docking in a crosswind so that a sideways-sliding cat doesn’t bite you.

Anchoring

That same windage-versus-­draft means that cats like to “hunt” or “sail” around the anchor rode or mooring pendant.  

Instead of attaching a line to just one bow, use a bridle (usually provided by the charter company) from each hull to a central attachment point forward of the bows. That technique will not only stabilize the boat at anchor in a breeze, but it will also take the jolt and noise out of an anchor chain.

Steering

With a monohull, you can usually set a course and stick to it. But with a cat, quartering seas (either forward or aft quarter) can be a challenge when one hull is trying to go up a swell and the other is coming down. Not only can this create a short motion that isn’t good for Aunt Edna’s tummy, but you’ll also find yourself winding the wheel back and forth to stay on course. Adjusting your course, much like when you’re tacking upwind, can reduce the struggle and make the boat ride much more comfortably.

Running down-sea, skippers should set their speed so that one bow doesn’t “dig in” and try to take over the steering, forcing the cat into a turn. One bow stopped in a swell and the other unencumbered can require considerable steering input. Adjust your course and/or speed accordingly and you’ll be fine.

Beam seas, especially when waves and troughs equal the distance between the hulls, can make for an unpleasant snap roll. But, like the other situations, a slight course change will steady the ride.

Beam

A sail or power catamaran is a lot beamier than a monohull, which is why the cats offer so much room. It doesn’t take a degree in naval architecture to figure out that a 42-foot catamaran with a beam of 22 feet is going to have more available space than a 42-foot monohull with a 13-foot beam.  

But you’ll have to pick and choose your dockage. Don’t be surprised if a marina puts you on the end tie, because the dockmaster can probably get two boats into that same-size slip you were eyeing. Call ahead via VHF radio if you aren’t sure a marina can handle a cat, but rest assured that marinas in bareboat-charter areas are familiar with your needs.

The good news when it comes to beam is that the same wideness gives a cat great stability and a steadiness at anchor that can rival solid ground. 

The many catamarans that populate bareboat fleets around the world offer significant advantages, not the least of which is sheer space. There are large salons, airy galleys, well-separated staterooms, and wide foredecks for young and old guests to enjoy.  

Don’t be put off before your first charter on a catamaran: This is one breed of cat that will have you purring with delight.

Award-winning marine journalist Chris Caswell has been bareboat chartering for more than five decades. He is also the editor and publisher of chartersavvy.com.

The post Ready to Try Your First Multihull Charter? appeared first on Cruising World.

No question about it: Bareboat charters and hamburgers go together. Most bareboats have a barbecue grill in the cockpit (they’re scarce in Europe, so check first), and grilling is perfect for no-fuss dinners that keep galley time to a minimum and let you to enjoy the sunset outdoors.

But the grill is a system like any others on a boat. It needs to be used and maintained safely.  

For starters, spend as much time having the check-out crew show you how to operate the grill as they do showing you the engine. Nearly every charter company has done away with charcoal (oh, the horror of live coals!) in favor of propane. Before you leave the check-out dock, have them light the grill to make sure it heats properly, and be sure you have enough propane for the duration of your adventure. Make sure the grill is bolted solidly to the rail so that you don’t feed dinner to the fishies. Also ask if any marinas in your planned cruising area prohibit grill usage; some have safety rules at the dock.

Barbecuing aboard is far different from grilling at home. Your backyard isn’t rolling with passing wakes, and you likely have no stray lines near the home grill, let alone a Bimini top. Safety for the crew and boat is your first concern, followed by perfect burgers, steaks or fish. Never—ever—try to grill while the boat is underway. That’s just asking for trouble. And if you have a flare-up (did you remember to trim all the excess fat from the meat?), a spray bottle with water can knock down the flame. On many grills, simply closing the lid will put out any flares.

Every grill has its own personality, with hot spots, cold spots, being fast or slow to heat, or just plain being cantankerous. Unless you bring a mitt, potholders, a meat thermometer and tongs, you should not expect to find them on board. 

While many propane grills have temperature gauges, trust me on this: You can’t trust them. Better to use the “Mississippi test.” Hold your hand 3 to 4 inches above the hot grill and count one Mississippi… two Mississippi…. Two to three Mississippis before you have to remove your hand is high temp for burgers. Medium is three to four Mississippis, and low heat is six to 10. Propane barbecues should be heated long enough so that the meat sears when it’s placed on the grill.

Want to start a fight? Ask people whether meat should be flipped during cooking. Some chefs say you should flip meat at least twice so that the sear will keep the juices inside and the food won’t end up welded to the grill. But flipping continually is also the easiest way to create a dry burger or steak. If you think something is cooking too fast, just move it to the outside of the grill, where the heat is lower. 

Burgers have a tendency to grow upward as they cook, and some chefs try to smash them flat with a spatula. No! Goodbye, juices. Instead, pat them gently. Don’t make them too thin. Make a little dent in the center of each patty before you start grilling, and the problem is solved. That dent also gives you a spot to add some zip with a splash of Worcestershire sauce, which soaks in quickly and gives a distinctive flavor.  

After placing food on the grill, close the lid to circulate the heat evenly—but never leave the grill unattended. Don’t get sucked into watching another boat trying to anchor, or go to fix yourself something rummy and cold.  

And with burgers, don’t forget the bun. It’s hard to beat fresh-from-a-Bahamas-bakery buns. Lightly coat them with butter on the grill side, and watch them like a hawk so that they don’t turn to charcoal. French brioche buns with high egg/butter content are delish, as are toasted onion rolls.

Want to start another fight? Ask someone about seasonings. For burgers, we’ve been successful with a little Kosher or sea salt, ground black pepper, perhaps a dash of garlic powder, all rubbed gently into the meat before grilling. My wife swears by Cavender’s Greek seasoning, which is a good substitute for salt and pepper. Bring it with you because it’s not available everywhere.  

Don’t stop at grilling burgers or steaks. Throw some veggies on the barbie too. Grilled fruit is the new dessert. Grilled watermelon or pineapple is a delight. Brush slices lightly with olive oil, grill for five to six minutes, and turn once. Yum. The same goes for grilled onions or peppers (seasoned with herbs). Or brush peach slices with amaretto, grill two minutes a side, and serve with whipped cream. Mmm. 

As for how long to keep all these things on the grill, the correct answer is: not too long. Grill heat, burger thickness, a breeze blowing—these all affect the cooking time. Instead of using a stopwatch, look for the burger to get juicy or “sweat” on top. At that point, flip the patty, check the time, and cook one or two minutes less than the first side. Cheeseburgers? Add the cheese with about two minutes to go, and close the lid to melt the cheese. 

One last warning: A barbecue takes surprisingly long to cool off, so keep fingers, kids and canvas items far away until it is truly cold. Pay attention to your barbecue and grill safety, and you’ll find yourself humming Jimmy Buffett’s “Cheeseburger in Paradise.”

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