Living aboard a sailboat is not always the romanticised notion of cocktails at sunset, cool sea salt breezes, starry night skies, and perfect gentle rolling seas. It is also rough waters, un-marked entrances with broken depth sounders, sleepless nights, rotten food, broken equipment, and rainy days.
I first arrived in Grand Cayman a few short months ago. We had sailed in on a 41 Morgan Classic from Bocas Del Toro, Panama. It had taken us nine days and eight nights to sail the 1000 nautical miles north to this small island chain snuggled between the smokey hills of Cuba and the tropical mountain tops of Jamaica.
Living on a solid lean for over a week, had all of us craving hamburgers and ice cold beers when we first arrived full sails, and salty. From afar, Grand Cayman looks like tiny boxes dotting the horizon line, slowly growing into large buildings and a long sandy beaches with every mile we came closer.
After a painless check in and one night on a mooring ball in Georgetown we made our way around the north west corner of the island to Governor’s creek. Where we anchored in front of the Yacht Club. We spent the next couple weeks familiarising ourselves with our new surroundings. Taking the dinghy up every canal, looking for empty docks, grocery stores and places to rinse off our salty skin. Even though, we had provisioned well in Panama, we needed fresh vegetables and meats.
Living on the hook is not glamours to say the least, between lack of water and power combined with the rocking wakes of tours boats. We decided to trade dinghy rides and rolling seas for a sturdy dock and an unlimited power source. We moved into the Yacht Club to start a dock life.