English Harbour, Antigua

English Harbour, Antigua

Tied up at Nelson’s Dockyard in English Harbour. Admiral Lord Nelson was stationed here in 1784, and later took over as Naval Commander. The old buildings – officers’ rooms, barracks, storerooms, bakery etc. – have been well restored and are used as offices, shops, a hotel, a museum and a few restaurants. The whole site is beautifully maintained and has UNESCO World Heritage status – claiming to be the only marina in the world with this designation. 

Things are pretty quiet here, the result of Covid. There are a few yachts, but apparently it should be chockablock – tourism, the mainstay of the Antiguan economy, has been battered by the virus. Very sad for Antigua, but I hate to admit great for me – the atmosphere is pleasantly sedate and I’m simply tied up alongside, rather than being berthed stern-to amid a crowd of other boats. 

Instead of being at anchor in the harbour, I decided to have at least several days docked in order to recover from my voyage. I have to get my windlass problems sorted out anyway, before I can anchor anywhere. 

One thing I have realised is how much the long voyage took out of me. The first night here I didn’t sleep too well, but on both the next two nights I have slept nine hours. I still haven’t completely adjusted to being on land – things still rock a little when I am on solid ground. I suppose I would have adjusted more quickly if I was permanently on land, but of course I spend a good part of the day and night on the boat, which rocks gently on the water. On Thursday morning I spent about an hour standing in the Customs and Immigration and marina offices and felt a bit sick when I got back to the boat. Lying down and snoozing for an hour, while rocking gently, fixed that. I don’t get seasick at all, but this was weird – it was as though I was a bit landsick. 

The people who are here are very friendly. I have been out for drinks with several people the last two nights, for lunch yesterday and have been sitting in a cafe with several people this afternoon. These people are all much more experienced sailors than me – typically, they have sailed for decades against my two years. But they have been very kind, and have warmly congratulated me for sailing solo across the Atlantic, saying that it is an outstanding achievement. This is humbling – I say well, I just did what I could, and I am very aware that I have limited experience and much to learn. They say that I have already learned much more than most people do in a decade simply cruising short distances along the English coast. Interestingly, they cite in particular the psychological aspect of being alone and self-reliant. As I say, I’m humbled, because I feel undeserving of respect – but I recognise that I seem to have earned a passport to membership of the long term cruising community. 

Antigua is very geared up for superyachts, although there is also more than ample provision for the smaller cruising yacht. Quite unbelievable are some of the yachts here – colossal, say 100 to 150 foot to my 40 foot. These things are all sleek and super-modern: sails are raised at the push of a button, they have generators and desalination plants and air conditioning. And of course at this level they have professional crew. Typically, the owners want the yacht in the Caribbean in winter, and in the Mediterranean in summer, but of course don’t want to do the long voyages, any more than they want to get involved in the nitty gritty of sailing. It’s another world entirely. The young Brazilian crewman from the Valhalla-registered superyacht moored 25 metres away who tried to fix my windlass on Wednesday evening, and his colleague, were delighted at the fact that I’d just sailed the Atlantic alone. I suppose from the vantage point of the deck on their “yacht”, mine was little more than a dugout canoe on which I’d just crossed an ocean!