James and Jayne Pearce braved \u2018the thorny path\u2019 in the spring of 2023 with the help of Bruce Van Sant\u2019s cruising guide The Gentleman\u2019s Guide to Passages South \u2013 The Thornless Path\u201cYou\u2019ll never make it.\u201d Our conversation with fellow cruisers about our plans suddenly ground to a halt. We were in Annapolis, on the east coast of the US, enjoying the city\u2019s famous October boat show. We\u2019d spent the last few months sailing from Boston to Maine, and were now in the Chesapeake shaking down Scout, our new Garcia Exploration 45. We were feeling pretty good about our progress so far.
\nAt dinner one evening, we were chatting to some experienced fellow cruisers and the topic turned to our plans for the coming season. \u201cWell,\u201d we said, with bright-eyed enthusiasm as we imagined the island-hopping paradise ahead of us, \u201cwe\u2019re heading south to Grenada.\u201d
\nTheir concerned response didn\u2019t relate to an enjoyable few months in the Windward Islands, however, nor the beautiful Bahamas. Instead, with a glimmer of fear in their eyes, our friends were thinking of the section in between, the infamous \u2018Thorny Path\u2019.
\nFirst named as such by Christopher Columbus, this is a notorious sailing route that leads from the Bahamas, by way of the Turks and Caicos, Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands and the Leeward Islands, to the Windward Islands. As you cross the Tropic of Cancer and hit the northern edge of the tradewind belt, inexorable 15-25 knot winds blow from the east, day in and day out. To reach the West Indies, you have at least 1,000 miles of sailing almost directly into them, together with the unpredictable currents and island effects that Columbus himself faced.<\/p>\n
It\u2019s a route that still proves a challenge to modern sailors. Hundreds of cruisers come down from Canada and the US to the Bahamas every winter, hoping to make the jump to the Caribbean in the spring, but you only have to look at the sprawling anchorages in George Town to realise that many soon get dissuaded or turn back, treating the Exumas as their terminus.
\nAnd the only alternative, the deceptively friendly-sounding \u2018I-65\u2019 route, is no easier. It involves staying north, heading out into the Atlantic for over 1,000 miles before turning south to the British Virgin Islands. Just six months into our full-time sailing lifestyle, we weren\u2019t ready for such a large offshore passage, and the scare stories from that route sounded even worse. We were just going to have to tackle the thorns head on.
\nAnd so, as we wandered home on that balmy Maryland evening, we realised we needed to get serious. Scout is a high latitudes expedition boat and we bought her because we knew she\u2019d always be a better boat than we are sailors. But we were going to need to plan ahead.
\nLife on a heel on the south coast of Puerto Rico. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nThe path begins
\nWe soon learned that the trick to the daunting Thorny Path was breaking it down into a manageable series of shorter sails. Some would be day-long, while others would be carefully timed overnight trips. Each would hinge on conditions; we were often going to need to wait for fronts to bring crucial northerly components to the prevailing winds.
\nBy early February we\u2019d made it down to George Town, and the conditions and timing to start the route were finally aligned. At the start of a week of forecasted light east-north-east winds, we departed the cays, into decidedly bluer waters, heading towards the more easterly outer islands of the Bahamas. Scout was finally on the path.
\nSo far so good. We tacked and close-reached on a series of day sails to Long Island, Conception, Rum Cay, and the protective anchorage of Attwood Harbour on Crooked Island\u2019s north-east coast.
\nBut on our final hop to the most easterly Bahamian island of Mayaguana, the trades strengthened again. We willed ourselves into believing there was still a northerly component to the wind, but what started as a light, close-hauled sail ended with a bumpy four- hour motor into a headwind. Thorny indeed, and we learned that day the importance of patience.
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Mayaguana is where many cruisers linger to start their passages south, and after several days of solitary sailing we\u2019d been keen to meet up with some of the dozen other yachts there to discuss passage plans. Our arrival coincided with a brooding mass of cumulus building to the east, and before Scout\u2019s anchor was even secure, everyone else seemed to be lifting theirs in a seemingly synchronised evening exodus.The last of the boats passed us by as we settled in. Was it something we said?
\nFortunately the squalls passed quickly, and while we considered catching up with the overnight caravan, lured by a safety in numbers mindset, the temptation of a hot roast chicken, a cold glass of chardonnay and an early start the following morning seemed much more appealing.
\nThe next day\u2019s sail was energetic and everything we\u2019d expected of the route\u2019s first bluewater offshore leg. One lesson we have learned from sailing Scout is that she thrives upwind; her sweet spot is at 42-45\u00b0 apparent wind angle, coupled with decent wind and full sail.
\nSetting out for St Kitts & Nevis from the BVIs. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nLuckily, that was exactly what we got. Despite the big sea state we had the winds out of the east at around 20 knots and our angle to Providenciales in the Turks and Caicos was perfect. We rattled along at over seven knots.
\nThe islands of the Turks and Caicos sit around the incredible blue waters of the Caicos Bank \u2013 which, after a few days in Providenciales, we needed to cross to the south-east. It is only about 40 miles to South Caicos, but given the distinct shallowness of the bank and the numerous uncharted coral heads, we opted to motor. Though we were dead into the wind, the shallow waters made for a comfortable crossing before we anchored next to Cockburn Harbour with its desolate, deserted salt pans and curious donkeys.
\nThe 110-mile sail to the Dominican Republic would be the route\u2019s first overnight passage for us. There are several destinations worth considering, including Puerto Plata, Luperon, or even further east to Samana if the winds allow. But our sights were set on the former, partly because of the lure of a marina and the chance to rinse months of salt off Scout\u2019s decks.
\nAfter a few days in South Caicos\u2019 swimming pool-like waters, we spotted a weather window, but it would be brief, so we had to time it carefully. Not long after we\u2019d indulged in a final morning snorkel, the wind turned abruptly north and we quickly raised anchor and set ourselves on a sweet south-easterly course.
\nRacing out from the banks we decided to put out a fishing line and almost immediately we got lucky. After weeks of little success, the haul kept us motivated through our evening watches. As the night passed, a subtle scent of petrichor grew and hinted at our destination. The pre-dawn light confirmed our sensory suspicions and the sleeping giant of the mountainous Dominican Republic emerged on the horizon.
\nTranquil Conception Island anchorage. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nDominican surprises
\nAfter the sandy slips of land we\u2019d been sailing around in the Bahamas, the vastness of Hispaniola was quite a sight. The effect that this mass of land has is significant. During the day, winds are accelerated around the high rocky coastline in unpredictable ways, while at night and in the early morning there\u2019s a \u2018night lee\u2019, a cushion of calm caused by the land breezes blanketing the prevailing trades. Many guides to sailing the Thorny Path recommend using this phenomenon to its best advantage, making overnight hops along the coast in the katabatic bubble and arriving at your next destination before the trades start to dominate again.
\nAs we approached Puerto Plata we were rudely introduced to this. Sailing into wind, and a few miles north off the coast, the clock struck 0900 and the night lee lifted. Scout abruptly swung 90\u00b0 to the west. Noted!
\nCulturally, as well as geographically, the Dominican Republic was a shock. We had to scrape together our rudimentary Spanish vocabulary to get by in the bustling coastal towns. The sights, the sounds and the smells were all different to what we were used to.
\nWith rough seas forecast for the week after our arrival, we took the opportunity to drive inland to the mountain town of Jarabacoa and historic city of Santiago de los Caballeros, and these trips gave us a glimpse of the interior of this wonderful country.
\nView down into the busy George Town anchorage. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nBut it was soon time to push on. We needed to reach Samana, on the north-eastern side of the island, before the more challenging jump to Puerto Rico.
\nThe Navy likes to keep track of boats\u2019 movements along the coast, and so we registered our intent and set off, first to the small town of R\u00edo San Juan, a pretty place that specialises in officially sanctioned artistic graffiti, then the anchorage at Puerto Del Vella, and finally into the protection of Samana Bay and the excellent Marina Puerto Bah\u00eda.
\nThe dilemma for each of these hops was choosing between day and night sails. At night the wind and waves are calmer, but day sails bring one distinct advantage: there\u2019s a shelf that comes several miles offshore and it\u2019s shallow enough for the local fishing community to lay seemingly endless pots and barely visible nets. The night lee stretches about five miles offshore, but there are fish traps as far as four miles out, so it\u2019s a narrow path to thread in the dark.
\nWith her twin rudders, Scout isn\u2019t a fan of floating objects and fishing lines \u2013 and neither are we. So we opted for early morning motorsails, opting to bash upwind in daylight rather than risk becoming incapacitated in a maze of nets in the dark. With mostly lighter winds that week, our strategy paid off.
\nRum Cay was reached on a day sail from Conception Island. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nThe Mona Passage
\nSix months on from the \u2018You won\u2019t make it\u2019 prediction, we were in Samana, and about to tackle the biggest challenge of all: the notorious Mona Passage.
\nStories abound of rigging damaged from sudden storms, treacherous shoals, and the unpredictable equatorial current. So we wanted conditions to be just right: ideally a large front passing to the north of us, strong enough to provide its own protective veil from the trades for the 24 hours we needed.
\nWith nothing coming for a while we sailed across the bay to the outstanding Los Haitises National Park, where a dramatic limestone karst coastline of conical hills, cliffs and mangrove-hidden caves come down to the waterline.
\nBut it wasn\u2019t long before we spotted a suitable front, and that was our big opportunity. One well-regarded cruising guide recommends hugging the coast at night, and crossing the Mona Passage north of Hourglass Shoals during the day.
\nBut with 12 hours of light southerly winds forecast followed by 12 of lull \u2013 and given our aversion to fish traps \u2013 we decided on the opposite. We\u2019d tackle the Passage itself in the dark.
\nA fluking humpback whale seemed to wave us farewell as we traversed the Dominican Republic coast in perfect 10-12 knot conditions. As evening fell the forecasted change arrived and the light winds dropped to a mere whisper. Perfect.
\nWe furled sails and motored east. Nature had even more resplendent plans as the light from an incredible full moon radiated down on Scout, casting an ethereal glow over the tranquil waters around us. This would be our completely unexpected memory of the Mona Passage: in complete contrast to its notoriety, it emanated an overwhelming sense of peace.
\nbeam reaching it down to St Kitts and Nevis. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nPuerto Rico to the Virgin Islands
\nOnce dawn rose, a video call to Puerto Rico Customs and Border Control made for a painless clearing-in process \u2013 having British and American citizenship has its perks.
\nSailing east along the south coast of the island would normally involve a week of tacking, but again the weather gods were smiling on us and the remnants of the front we\u2019d ridden miraculously gifted us moderate westerly winds. A few days of rare spinnaker sailing took us to Isla Caja de Muertos and some sweet reaching to Salinas (much-needed re-provisioning opportunities), and Patillas. We stopped in at Palmas del Mar and sprawling Puerto del Rey marinas to meet up with family, and take a weekend break in the vibrant capital city of San Juan.
\nPushing east again, the island of Vieques (famous for its bioluminescence), Isla Palominos, and the charming island of Culebra involved a healthy series of tacks into the trades, but each was a short and bearable hop.
\nOur final destination in Puerto Rico was the uninhabited island of Culebrita, where Scout floated once more in crystal-clear waters. We snorkelled to find an impressive quantity of aquatic life such as green turtles, parrotfish and spotted eagle rays.
\nTranquil anchorage in Los Haitises National Park. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nIt was April and we were on the final leg of the Thorny Path, and time to work our way through the Virgin Islands. With the trades in full daily onslaught, our luck with helpful wind conditions had run out. But now we had navigational options on our side.
\nWe chose our next stop of St Croix, predominantly because it was more south than east of Culebra (a very comfortable upwind sail) and were rewarded with a fascinating destination in its own right.
\nUnlike most of the Caribbean islands, which have a Spanish, French or English past, the US Virgin Islands have a Danish colonial history, and we spent a week exploring unusual forts, plantations and even a local vodka distillery around friendly Christiansted.
\nOur giant tack back north, towards the US island of St John, was a spectacular 30-mile long beam reach. But sailors\u2019 pride often comes before a fall and our luck with fishing pots was about run out. We saw a lone lobster pot marker just ahead of us as we approached the island, but it was too late.
\nThe dining experience on board Scout off the south coast of Puerto Rico. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nAs we turned to avoid it, the line beneath it got tangled in our rudder and our glorious 7 knots dropped to a miserable 2 knots as we dragged 300m of line (and probably a surprised lobster) behind us.
\nIt was a beautiful day and the sea was warm, so after a quick heave-to, James jumped in and untangled things before we were on our way again.
\nAfter a few days soaking up the sophistication of Cruz Bay, it was time to head east one final time, with our sights on the northern end of the chain of islands that would take us south to Grenada.
\nIt would be a 36-hour upwind sail and our strategy was to use the British Virgin Islands as a protected way to make progress eastwards. It felt strange not stopping and enjoying the beautiful cruising grounds, but the Sir Francis Drake Channel was perfect for a day of tacking upwind in calmer waters.
\nAs we passed between Necker Island and Punta Gorda before a glorious sunset, the wind shifted north slightly as forecasted and we shot out of the BVIs at a perfect angle. A pleasant night\u2019s sail later, morning brought sight of the Dutch islands of Saba and Sint Eustatius, and then our destination, the twin islands of St Kitts and Nevis.
\nJayne sailing around the south coast of Puerto Rico. Photo: James and Jayne Pearce
\nFarewell Thorny Path
\nWe were finally east of 63\u00b0W. As we pulled in to anchor by the pretty town of Basseterre, accompanied by dolphins and the distant sound of soca music, we couldn\u2019t help but smile. Our Thorny Path trials and tribulations had come to an end, and we\u2019d proven that we could indeed make it.
\nThis is a route with a reputation for a good reason, but if you have time and flexibility it can be broken down into many smaller, manageable sections. Early in the calendar year fronts passing over the US can disrupt the trades locally, sometimes significantly, and those are the chances to take.
\nStretched between the much more popular and well-known Bahamian and Eastern Caribbean cruising grounds, the lesser-travelled coastlines we explored each held their own surprises and delights.
\nThe recollection of the days bashing upwind would soon fade, but the spectacular places we saw along the way will stay with us forever.<\/p>\n
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The post A path between thorns: Sailing the windward route from the Bahamas to the Windward Isles appeared first on Yachting World.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
James and Jayne Pearce braved \u2018the thorny path\u2019 in the spring of 2023 with the help of Bruce Van Sant\u2019s cruising guide The Gentleman\u2019s Guide to Passages South \u2013 The Thornless Path\u201cYou\u2019ll never make it.\u201d Our conversation with fellow cruisers … <\/p>\n