When the strong winds out of the southeast finally let up after nearly three weeks, they shifted to the north, bringing with them a nip of the Arctic U.S. At least it felt that way to us, but in reality it meant lows of seventy degrees. Time to dig out some long sleeves.

Machete boy can’t take the chill.

Still too windy to hang clothes outside.

Looks like once upon a time someone wanted to impose some rules. Fortunately nature took over.

Anyone with two kids ever wonder what the heck they’d have done with just one? These two. Always together. Always laughing. Always saying goodnight to each other across the room at the end of the day.

With the wind shift came a catamaran neighbor. The monohull is a divemaster here for a couple of years, thus the dark green anchor lines.

A shallow lagoon filled in with huge tarpon after one particularly rough hurricane.

And finally, the wind died. We said our goodbyes in Little Cayman, and moved quickly to take advantage of the calm. First stop was to Cayman Brac, the neighboring island about ten miles away, to clear out with customs and immigration. Super friendly, they drove over to meet us, stamped some papers, then went off to make copies. Then they found us up the road at the grocery store to drop off our set of copies, along with some extras that we’d need at our next stop. Cost for clearance and their time, nothing.

After clearing out we loaded the dinghies up and prepared to cruise off again. But first we grabbed a mooring ball tied off to a sunken ship. The government bought the ship from the Russians and then sank it in about 60 feet of water as an artificial reef and dive site. With nice visibility it was just shallow enough for those of us without dive tanks to enjoy.

Starting to get some growth. Not bad, though, considering it’s been about 18 months since painting. I’ll get in there and clean it up as soon as I have a calm day.

Jamaica on the horizon. Cruising is sort of frustrating sometimes. We could see Jamaica from about 40 miles out, but even on a nice calm day like this it was still a good five hours before we’d get there. When you’re tired and ready for a new landfall it can feel like forever. It was a nice smooth passage, though, which is the best you can ask for when headed against the prevailing winds.

It’s funny, most of the time we feel like our home is big. Forty-two feet of boat feels like plenty. But sometimes, like when tied up next to a 60′ Gunboat catamaran, it looks like a toy.

MoBay Yacht Club is a convenient place to clear into Jamaica. It’s not anything fancy, and there isn’t much to do around the area, but for getting some paperwork done, and grabbing some groceries, it works out great. We had a bit of an issue with the Immigration officer who really thought we were horrible adults for taking our kids out to live on a boat. “Home-schooled.” He spit the word out like a curse.

You have to sit and take whatever they give you when you are a visitor asking for permission to enter a country. Ali, of course, couldn’t just nod appreciatively at the immigration officer’s obivous knowledge, though. When he was berating me for marking my family members down as crew (instead of passengers) on the immigration forms, he made it very clear that he thought Ali and the kids were just along for the ride on my yacht. She let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she was a full partner in our ocean travels. He was unimpressed, but he allowed her to remain marked as CREW, while he made a big show of marking the kids down as PASSENGERS. Apparently, in his household kids just sit back and don’t participate at all in the goings on of the family home.

But hey, whatever, you smile and nod, and in the end the guy gives you the full 90-day visa that you requested (just in case weather sucks). And you never have to see him again—his wife and kids do.

The next day while sitting at lunch at a dockside restaurant we felt the big rumble. A 7.7 earthquake was rattling directly underneat the path we’d just cruised over, about 80 miles away. A tsunami warning was issued, then quickly cancelled, fortunately. It was enough to put the city in a frenzy, though. Cars were careening down the roads the wrong way, either scrambling for the hills, or just trying to get home and enjoy the early release from work for the day. We eventually made it back to the boat, by which time things had calmed down a bit. No tsunami, and no big aftershocks either.