A funny thing has happened in the evolution of cruising catamarans. The category, at the outset, was defined by straightforward simplicity. This was true going back to the double-hulled Polynesian voyaging canoes, through the iconic designs of the visionary James Wharram, on to the custom cats built on Caribbean beaches by Peter Spronk, and including the early production cats of the modern era from Fountaine Pajot and Lagoon. Cruising catamarans were basically a pair of narrow hulls with a rather minimalistic living and working space sandwiched between them. 

It wasn’t too long before builders and designers realized that if they added a bit of volume to those hulls and stretched them, they could fill them with comfortable double-berth staterooms, en suite heads and other amenities. And, thanks largely to the ­catamaran’s emergence as an excellent platform for bareboat charter, designers could also make them taller (the “wedding-cake effect”). That brought us not only upper-deck lounges with day beds, grills and refrigerators, but also dedicated flybridges with steering stations that were once the exclusive domain of trawlers and sport-fishing craft.

Everything’s gotten bigger these days. Certainly, here in my hometown of Newport, Rhode Island, and in nearby destinations including Long Island, Cape Cod and Nantucket, modest seaside homes have been razed to make room for garish mansions with gyms, pools and astronomical square footage. In contemporary cruising cats, I’m feeling comparable vibes. 

As a judge for the 2024 Boat of the Year awards, I was struck by the technology, sophistication and similarities of the contestants vying for Best Cruising Catamaran Over 50 Feet. Both were from French builders, both were 51 feet, and both had seven-figure price tags. The Lagoon 51 was a very different beast than the first Lagoon I ever stepped aboard, the compact Lagoon 37. And the winning boat, the Fountaine Pajot Aura 51, was a far cry from the basic Louisiane 37 that launched the company’s foray into cruising cats back in 1983. 

Fountaine Pajot has certainly placed a big bet on the Aura 51, as it’s replacing the Saba 50, of which some 300 hulls were sold. Describing the overall aesthetic by Berret-Racoupeau Design is no simple task. The lines are actually pretty sweet for a gargantuan 51-footer with a beam of more than 25 feet. As with all contemporary cats, the waterline is maxed out, with a plumb bow and an extended boarding step in the squarish transom. The hull windows and the wraparound window treatment in the coachroof complement each other well.

Clearly, the goal was to optimize comfort at anchor. There are cushioned seats in the forward deck, just abaft the trampolines. What the company calls the “sky lounge” is topside on the roof of the Bimini hardtop over the cockpit, with a 2,000-watt array of solar panels sharing this space.

The steering wheel is to starboard, a few steps up from the cockpit, putting the skipper in a strategic location to communicate with mates on the lower or upper level, which is another four steps up from the wheel. Everything’s a compromise when it comes to boats, and the drawback here is that there are blind spots to port, particularly if coming along a portside berth. You’re going to want a mate calling out the distance. (There is no flybridge wheel.)

That said, I’m actually a big fan of the split steering station, with the wheel, engine controls and Garmin instruments on a pedestal under a canvas Bimini top, and a trio of Lewmar self-tailing electric winches, a pair of Spinlock rope clutches, and all the running rigging led to a dedicated pod just forward of the helmsman. This is a signature Fountaine Pajot feature on several models. Frankly, with imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, I’m surprised more builders have not adopted this layout. It really does allow for solo sailing; the driver can put the boat on autopilot, slip a couple of steps forward, and trim and reef to the heart’s delight. 

Unfortunately, for our sea trial on Chesapeake Bay, we didn’t have the double-digit windspeeds needed to put the Aura 51 through its proper paces, but the boat moved well in the 5- to 8-knot northerly, making over 4 knots closehauled, and an even 4 when cracked off on a beam reach. A company rep suggested that in better breeze, the boat would generally make speeds about half that of the true-wind pressure. There’s an optional bowsprit arrangement with all the associated hardware to set a code-zero-style headsail.

There certainly is no lack of sail area, particularly the square-topped full-battened mainsail that’s set off a whopping 76-foot spar. We see quite a few sails from French sailmaker Incidence on French-built boats, like the ones on our test ride, and they are always top-notch. The boat we tested also had optional twin 75 hp Volvo Pentas with saildrives (60 hp engines are standard). The boat galloped along at over 8 knots at 2,400 rpm. Decibel-wise, it was one of the quietest in the entire 2024 Boat of the Year fleet. The composite construction is a rather straightforward combination of resin injection and infusion with balsa core in the hulls and Divinycell foam in the deck.

All of which brings us to the vessel’s true raison d’être: the open floor plan with condolike cabins and accommodations, which are impressive. 

The sliding doors separating the main cabin and cockpit can be fully opened. The main dining table is in the cockpit and can be fully enclosed with canopies. The straight-line galley is inside and to port, bordered by an island that doubles as counters and a workspace for the cook. There’s plenty of seating, and the views through the coachroof windows are terrific. Surprisingly, there is no dedicated navigation station, which to me seems like an oversight on a boat of this size.

Several layouts are available. Our test model had the “double maestro”: a master stateroom aft in each hull, accessed from the interior or through a pair of gullwing doors in the cockpit. Guest staterooms are forward. Boat of the Year judge Mark Pillsbury noted that this could be a nice setup for two owners to share, whether sailing separately or together. Regarding our choice of the Aura 51 over the Lagoon for Boat of the Year, our panel collectively felt that both boats would do well in charter, but that the Aura was better suited to real cruising as opposed to being aimed more toward vacation sailing. 

No pun intended, but there’s a definite aura to this rangy cat that separates it from the other models that Fountaine Pajot produces. This is a boat meant to be lived on and in, for extended periods, in high comfort bordering on true luxury. Bring friends and family. On the Aura 51, there is definitely room for the whole gang. 

Herb McCormick is a CW editor at large and was a 2024 Boat of the Year judge.

Did You Know?

■ Fountaine Pajot is pioneering a “zero-emission energy system” in the Aura 51. The Smart Electric version of the boat incorporates electric motors, folding props, solar panels, a generator, and a pair of lithium-ion battery banks capable of storing 54 kilowatt hours. Under sail via hydrogeneration, the system can recharge the batteries in 48 hours. 

■ Founded in 1976 by a quartet that included Olympic sailor Jean-François Fountaine and offshore racer Yves Pajot, Fountaine Pajot specialized at the start in racing dinghies and IOR-rule monohulls. The company later delved into large, record-setting transoceanic catamarans and trimarans. It wasn’t until 1983 that the yard pivoted to cruising cats, beginning with the Louisiana 37. 

■ During the past four decades, Fountaine Pajot has produced more than three dozen models, many named after the destinations or islands that inspired them: Tobago 35, Saba 50, Eleuthera 60 and so on. Today, the company also includes Dufour Yachts, a range of power cats, and eight cruising/sailing cat models from 40 to 80 feet.

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When I think back on my bareboat chartering experiences, certain comparisons naturally come to mind. Compared with the boats of yesteryear, modern charter boats are marvels of design and engineering, with best-in-class comfort and convenience. These vessels, especially the popular catamarans, have spacious staterooms, fully equipped galleys and luxurious furnishings. Features such as air conditioning, watermakers and efficient refrigeration are now standard, ensuring a consistent level of comfort anywhere you book.   

The guest experience is king, often as important as the destination itself. This trend has raised the bar for charter operators around the globe to meet customers’ high expectations. Peter Jones, broker at Voyage Charters, says that just five years ago, his company was renting out boats with manual pump toilets and no air conditioning. Today, the fleet includes the luxurious Voyage 590, which won Cruising World’s 2022 Boat of the Year. It has six guest staterooms with en suite heads and state-of-the-art accoutrements.  

 Cool. But beyond the plush interiors and deluxe amenities remains the broader appeal of chartering—the escape itself. Bareboat chartering isn’t only about the boat; it’s about the adventure. Each trip is a chance to discover hidden coves, vibrant marine life, uninhabited islands and more. The thrill of plotting your own course with two or 10 of your best mates can turn a vacation into memories of a lifetime.  

Charter is also about embracing the unexpected. Three years ago, with some friends and my wife, I chartered a nifty new power cat with all the bells and whistles in the British Virgin Islands. Sure, because of the pandemic, ours was a vastly different experience from the typical BVI charter. We couldn’t have cared less. We dived the RMS Rhone wreck, sipped Painkillers opposite a plexiglass shield at the Soggy Dollar Bar, explored the stunning Baths on Virgin Gorda, and danced with waves of colorful fish around the reefs of Anegada. Despite the travel hassles, the freedom of cruising in such a beautiful place made it all worthwhile. The boat was perfect, the memories unforgettable.

 Earlier this year, I joined a rally in the Leeward Islands aboard a scaled-down sailing charter catamaran. We discovered stunning new-to-me destinations, including Orient Bay, Anse Marcel and Ile Fourchue. 

Mother Nature got in on the action, giving us a rare ridge of high pressure that completely stole our breeze, but the adventure became more than just sailing. It was about the camaraderie, the beautiful anchorages and the simple joy of being on the water. Our boat, even with its modest mainsail and self-­tacking jib, provided the perfect vessel for this laid-back expedition, proving that sometimes the best adventure is found in the journey itself.

Even the most experienced charterers can face unexpected challenges. Just last month, a reader shared a story of chartering off Florida’s Gulf Coast. Despite having more than 30 years of sailing and chartering in his wake, his carefully planned itinerary was disrupted by equipment failures and unexpected weather conditions. 

A tropical storm brought high winds, heavy rain and lightning, testing the crew’s resilience and adaptability. His experience highlights the importance of flexibility and preparedness in chartering. It also stresses value in the option of hiring a professional captain, especially in unfamiliar waters, so you can relax and enjoy the journey.

To me, always, the joys of chartering far outweigh any difficulties. It offers the chance to explore new destinations, try different boats and create unforgettable memories. 

If you’re a current subscriber, as you read through our August 2024 Charter Special issue, you’ll find stories and insights from fellow sailors who have embraced these comforts and thrills. I hope it all inspires you to book your own charter adventure. 

No charter is perfect, nor is any one charter experience the same. That’s the whole point. Dive in. The water’s fine. —Andrew Parkinson, editor-in-chief

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Le Boat, which offers bareboats in Europe and Canada, has launched a Skipper for Hire program to make boating easier for first-time cruisers.

“Many of our North American guests have expressed interest in having a skipper available, as the idea of piloting a boat for the first time can be daunting,” Lisa McLean, long haul marketing manager for Le Boat, stated in a press release. “In response to this feedback, our Skipper for Hire program aims to enhance the boating experience and provide unparalleled support to our valued guests. Whether you’re a novice or a seasoned cruiser, our skilled skippers are dedicated to helping our customers feel more confident and ensure their journey is stress-free and enjoyable.”

McLean stresses that all of Le Boat’s vessels are easy to drive, and that no boat license or prior boating experience is required. Le Boat’s base teams provide in-depth orientation, safety briefings and hands-on training before bareboaters set off.

Le Boat’s vessels have a steering wheel for left and right turns, and a throttle for forward and reverse motion. Certain boats in the Comfort Plus, Premier and Luxury categories are also fitted with bow and/or stern thrusters.

The Le Boat skipper program will cost $199 per day. On the first full day of the voyage, the skipper will provide guests with hands-on instruction on boat operation, navigation techniques and maneuvering through locks. The idea is to empower guests to navigate independently for the remainder of their excursion.

Skippers will provide their own lunch and refreshments on board, and will leave at the end of the first day. Le Boat assumes liability for any accidental damage incurred while the skipper is on board.

For the initial program launch, skippers will be stationed along the Canal du Midi, departing from Le Boat bases in Castelnaudary, Carcassonne (Trèbes), Homps and Port Cassafières. They will be proficient in English and French.

If the program is successful, Le Boat plans to expand it to other cruising grounds in Europe or Canada after 2025.

Le Boat is offering a 2025 early-booking deal: Cruisers can save as much as 25 percent on Budget, Comfort and Comfort Plus rentals across Europe, or as much as 15 percent on the Horizon Fleet in Canada, France, Holland, Belgium and Germany.

For more information: head over to leboat.com

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With  a bright and inviting interior, numerous on-deck places to relax or socialize, good sailing manners, and a versatile array of layouts for couples, families or chartering, the Lagoon 51 does a number of things right.

The 51, designed by Lagoon’s longtime naval architect collaborators at VPLP Design, replaces the Lagoon 50, which was introduced roughly five years ago. The new model lands dead center in the company’s lineup of cruising catamarans that range from 40 to 77 feet. The Lagoon 50 is the largest model intended for an owner-operator; starting with the Lagoon 55, there’s likely to be a captain and/or crew involved.

The company, which builds some 275 boats a year, projects that it will build 45 to 50 hulls of the new 51, with about a third sold for private use and the remainder going into charter. With that in mind, it makes sense that the interior design of the 51 includes multiple accommodations layouts. 

The four-stateroom version is more likely to appeal to a private owner, whose suite takes the entire starboard hull. It has a queen-size berth aft that’s adjacent to one of three rectangular ports in the hull, providing a tremendous view of the world outdoors. Amidships, there’s a desk and seating area outboard with a view. Opposite are hanging lockers along with a walk-in closet/dressing room. A head and shower are forward, and are kept bright in daylight hours with natural light.

Three guest staterooms occupy the port hull. The aft stateroom has an en suite head and shower. The remaining two staterooms—one ­forward and the other located inboard and amidships—share a head and shower. 

A four-stateroom, ­four-head version is also available, and there’s a charter-friendly six-stateroom, four-head option as well.

The 51 is built in Lagoon’s yard in Bordeaux, France, on the same production line as the Lagoon 55. Lagoon infuses its balsa-cored composite hulls and decks, a process that helps to control weight during construction. The Bimini top over the flybridge is injection-molded. The 51 has a 12-volt electrical system.

On recent Lagoon models, VPLP designers placed the mast farther aft than on older models, employing a shorter boom and high-aspect main, a trend made popular on big racing multihulls. On those boats, race crews rely on a quiver of headsails, often set on furlers, to quickly power up or down the sail plan to match conditions. Most cruisers and charter boats, though, are rigged with a single jib or small genoa, a setup that can affect performance in light conditions. On the 51, Lagoon returned the rig to a more forward position, and the mainsail will be cut for a bit more power. This should mean better performance in light air. Moving the mast ahead also opens up space in the salon. 

Another interesting design choice on the 51 is the placement of large transoms on either side of a swim platform that can be lowered into the water at anchor, or be raised and used to store a tender underway. The oversize transoms extend abaft the sides of the hull, making it easier to step aboard from a dock or tender. And they make a good place to sit and dangle your feet in the water. 

There are essentially four places to congregate on the 51. A padded, U-shaped seating area is on the foredeck, with a window abaft it that opens from the salon, and through which snacks can be passed. That window also provides increased indoor ventilation.

The open salon has a galley aft with L-shaped counters on either side of the sliding cockpit door. Stove, oven and sink are to port; fridges and freezer drawers are to starboard. There is a side-facing nav desk in the forward starboard corner, adjacent to a dining table with seating all around. Visibility is great forward, aft and to either side, thanks to Lagoon’s signature vertical windows.

The cockpit offers a second alfresco dining option, with a table to port. A sun lounge is opposite, and more couch-style seating is across the stern between transom stairs. There’s an outdoor sink too, along with a fridge and ice maker.

The real party place, though, is one level up, on the flybridge. My guess is that’s where people will hang out most of the time. 

There is access to the ­flybridge from the cockpit below via steps on the port side next to the outdoor dining table, or from the starboard deck. The helm station with a bench seat is forward; abaft it is U-shaped seating surrounding a cocktail table. A pair of sun pads is forward of the helm on the cabin top, on either side of the mast.

I know there’s debate about whether flybridge steering is better for chartering than long-range cruising, when a helmsman might prefer to be more protected from the elements, but on the 51, I really liked the flybridge setup. First off, there’s good all-round visibility. Second, the person driving has space to work but can still be part of the conversation. 

Three Harken electric winches are within an arm’s reach of the wheel, and all sail-control lines except for the traveler are led to them (there’s a Harken side-wind winch for the traveler nearby). During my trick at the wheel, I found that tacking the boat singlehanded was quite easy. Underway, a window overhead in the Bimini top gives the skipper a clear view of the square-top mainsail. That’s a nice feature when trimming or hoisting sail. One caveat, however: The combination of flybridge and Bimini top means the height of the boom is fairly high off the water.

Though it was not available on the boat that our team got aboard in Annapolis, Maryland, a unique roller-­furler boom is available for the 51. Lagoon developed it in conjunction with Wichard and Incidence Sails. Buyers can watch a video of it in action.

As I said at the start, the 51 has good sailing manners. In 10 to 14 knots of breeze, we saw speeds in the low 6s closehauled and nearly 7 knots on a broad reach. The top speed of the day that I jotted down in my notebook was just over 7.5 knots. In these conditions, it would have been fun to roll out a big reaching sail, if we’d had one. The boat is set up for it with an aluminum sprit.

With the 51, Lagoon has what I might call a Goldilocks boat: not too big, not too small, capable for cruising, and comfortable for chartering. In a lot of ways, it’s pretty much just right.

Mark Pillsbury is a CW editor at large and was a 2024 Boat of the Year judge.

Toward a Green(er) Machine

From resin and cloth to solar power and more-efficient systems, the Lagoon 51 takes advantage of ongoing development work that Groupe Beneteau employs across its many brands to make boats cleaner to construct and operate.

Let’s face it: While the act of sailing might be considered a green pastime, building boats definitely isn’t. A lot of resin, fiberglass, adhesives, and sealants are required to build a structure that’s 50 feet long, nearly 27 feet wide, and three stories tall—and strong enough to hold its own in a bluewater environment.

A boat that size needs a pair of beefy (80 hp) diesel engines for motoring. And it has numerous energy-gobbling systems and appliances such as air conditioning, fridges and freezers, a washer and dryer, and the like, all of which need to be fed.

Any steps toward greater sustainability are strides in the right direction. With the 51, Lagoon began to add bio-sourced resin when laying up nonstructural small parts. In place of fiberglass cloth, the company is experimenting with natural fibers such as hemp and linen. And for years now, Lagoon has infused its hulls, which allows better control of the resin while reducing vapors released into the atmosphere.

An array of custom XXL solar panels—more than 3,400 watts’ worth—line the perimeter of the flybridge and its hard Bimini top, helping to reduce (or eliminate, if the air conditioner is not on) the amount of engine (or diesel generator) run time needed to keep the battery bank topped up. Adding to the power equation is the use of more-efficient cooling units and LED lighting.

Throughout the boat, Forest Stewardship Council-approved Alpi wood is used, and upholstery is made from 100 percent recycled materials. New Lagoons come with eco-friendly cleaning products. Starting this year, the boats also will be equipped with UV water filters to reduce the need for single-use plastic bottles for drinking water.

“In a nutshell, Lagoon is committed to sustainability through various initiatives such as using FSC-certified wood, recycled materials for upholstery, and bio-sourced resins,” says Lagoon Americas director Andre Hernandez. “Our production sites are ISO-certified for environmental management. We incorporate XXL solar panels on our boats and offer biodegradable maintenance kits. Lagoon also invests in hybrid-propulsion research and supports projects such as Anima Mundi and Escape to Nature to promote environmental conservation.” —MP

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There’s always a feeling of excitement mixed with a twinge of anxiety as the mooring pendant drops, or the anchor is catted, and a voyage begins. What do they say? The thrill in adventure is just this side of terror.

This time, it was the Friday before Easter. Any savvy sailor knows that you never begin a voyage on a Friday, not even on Good Friday.

Our plan was for a quick hop from Bequia down to the Tobago Cays, then to clear customs at Union Island, and then to head to nearby Carriacou. We wanted to visit the shipwrights who still build wooden boats the old way. We would begin our real voyage northward, up through the Lesser Antilles, the following week.

The wind was light as we headed out of Bequia’s Admiralty Bay and motored past Moonhole, an abandoned villa carved into the cliffs along the bay’s southern rampart. We rounded Western Cay with the dinghy tagging along behind and headed south-southwest, aiming for the island of Canouan. This string of islands in St. Vincent and the Grenadines stretches for 30 miles and has a lot going for it. The islands are all within sight of one another, all within an easy beam reach, and each different, with anchorages, communities ashore and great diving. It’s a smaller version of the British Virgin Islands.

I consulted my copy of Chris Doyle’s Guide to the Windward Islands as a lazy swell came from the east, barely noticeable on the calm, flat sea. With the sails rolled up and the autopilot set, the boat’s owner and I settled into the cockpit for the two-hour passage to Canouan.

Lounging there in the cockpit, under the dodger and Bimini top, I found much to like about this 30-year-old yacht. It was quality-built, with a lot of thought put into the design. Handholds were where you wanted them; the push-pit surrounded the cockpit; stout stainless steel rails extended forward to midship; and 30-inch-high lifelines ran forward from there. The decks were uncomplicated. The anchor platform on the bow was well planned. There was a good-size windlass with a chain break. A single bow roller housed the Rocna anchor. There was room on the foredeck to strap down the dinghy offshore.

I was happy to be aboard as Bequia dropped astern and two small islands appeared 2 miles off to port: Petit Nevis and Isle à Quatre. On the horizon, 5 miles farther east, was Mustique, a hideaway for royalty and the jet set. (Neither of us were appropriately attired for a visit.) Ahead, Canouan was visible, and beyond that, the rugged peaks of Union Island, looking like a gateway to Jurassic Park, only 24 miles away.

Canouan was one of the poorest islands in the Caribbean when I anchored there 15 years ago. Then, hotel developers expanded the airport to accommodate private jets. The residents now have a slightly higher standard of living. Grand Bay is the main harbor and anchorage, but we kept going.

Back in 2010, my family and I spent an overnight near here. It was a night to remember. We had anchored in 16 feet of water, off the Tamarind Beach Hotel’s dock near The Moorings charter base. The wind began to whistle down through the valleys. Gusts were heeling our 57-foot ketch. I had 100 feet of chin out on a 70-pound Bruce, but we were creeping ever closer to a catamaran anchored astern.

I got the kids (then 9 and 11) out of bed to help. The spare bow anchor was a 45-pound Danforth on 30 feet of chain and 200 feet of five-eighths nylon rode. While I brought the RIB around to the bow, the kids untied the Danforth and pulled out the chain and rode from below. They lowered the Danforth over the bow rollers as I guided it into the dink and then motored out 100 feet or more, with the kids paying out the line. Eventually, I slipped the anchor over the side—none of that anchor-throwing stuff for me.

Back aboard, we took in the rode until the anchor chain was slack. The kids were too excited to sleep, as was I. Throughout the night, the wind plucked out a tune in the boat’s rigging.

I thought about that memory as my current ride, Striker, rounded Canouan’s west end. We headed for the next small island, Mayreau, 4 miles away. On its northern tip is a perfect little anchorage, Salt Whistle Bay (more of a cove, really). Its palm-fringed beach and scattering of bars and restaurants make it too popular for those looking to get away from the crowd.

We were heading for an even more magical spot in the Tobago Cays. As we approached, I went forward and sat on the pulpit to watch the water change from deep, offshore blue to pale, with the seabed visible 30 feet below. The pale blue nearly changed to white as we approached the beach. Brown patches denoted coral heads and reefs. This was one lovely and lonely piece of the Caribbean, with only an open sea to the horizon in the distance.

It was late March with the season drawing to a close, but there were two powerboats and a dozen or more sailboats anchored. When I had last come through, it was late January with dozens of boats and beaches full of people.

My preference would be to anchor off the beach at Petit St. Vincent, a private resort that’s far from the crowds, yet within a short dinghy ride to excellent snorkeling. We passed Palm Island, with its resort and villas, and ended up in Clifton Harbor. I had been here a few times, including in 2010 after a month in Grenada.

Back then, we had planned to stop at Union Island for the night. While looking for a spot to anchor, a helpful West Indian chap had come along side in his pirogue, inquiring if we needed a mooring.

“How much?” I asked.

“100 EC.” About $60.

“Too much. We’ll anchor. Thank you, though.”

My new friend was persistent, and we settled for about $30.

“Where?” I asked.

“Follow me.”

He led us to a mooring right in front of the yacht club’s pier. How convenient. I gave him the fee, thanked him, and off he went in his colorful fishing boat. My family climbed into our RIB and went ashore to clear in.

Back on board that afternoon, as I was settling in with a rum and tonic, a day-charter catamaran approached with a woman on the bow. She shouted for us to get off the mooring. My kids ran forward to drop our mooring line as I started the engine, and we circled the harbor, searching for a spot to anchor. By the time our boat was secure, I was fuming.

I spied the pirogue tied to the fishermen’s dock, jumped into our RIB and sped ashore.

“I think he’s at his mother’s place,” an elderly chap told me. “Here, Bert will take you.”

I climbed into a nearby taxi. Off we went—first to his mother’s house, then to his wife’s, then to his girlfriend’s and, finally, back to the pier. My “friend” was waiting. He handed me a $100 EC bill. 

“You got change?” he asked. 

I ignored him and headed for my dinghy. He followed. We climbed into our respective boats. He circled our sailboat. My kids hid behind the staysail bag on the foredeck while I argued the taxi fare, the illegal mooring rental, and the unfairness of it all.

After a while, he realized I wasn’t going to give him the money. He left. I lay awake in the cockpit most of the night, fearing retaliation.

But back to today. 

This time, as we passed the harbor entrance buoy, a pirogue with two teenage boys roared up along the side. The taller boy at the engine yelled: “Do you want a mooring?”

“How much?”

“For you, I give you a discount. Usually $150EC. Today, it’s $100.”

“Too much,” I replied.

He lowered his price.

“Done. Now where?”

“Follow me.”

They led us to a sorry-looking buoy with an encrusted pendant. We passed one of our lines through the eye of the foul-looking thing. I paid the boys and they took off.

Not trusting the mooring, I donned a mask and snorkel. I swam down the mooring line to the bottom, where it disappeared into the mud. It looked as if it had been there for a century.

We dinghied ashore, tied up at the yacht club, and walk into town, through a bazaar of colorful awnings, umbrellas and tents above everything from jewelry, bikinis and vegetables to artwork and fruit.

We couldn’t resist the two-story Tipsy Turtle. We tucked into a booth on the upstairs porch, ordered rum punches, and surveyed the scene below.  

Tomorrow, we would hop over to Carriacou and clear in.

We could see it from where we sat—only half a day from Bequia, yet in another world.

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I had just arrived in Bequia to help a friend sail his Reliance 44 cutter, Striker, up the island chain to Antigua. Our plan was to sail down to Grenada for a quick look and then head back north.

However, in February, the disappearance of an American couple on their yacht in Grenada put a damper on many cruisers’ plans to visit. My friend was less than enthusiastic, so we elected to forgo Grenada and sail only as far south as Carriacou. We both wanted to see the shipwrights who still build wooden boats by hand, without plans. Then we’d head north, maybe.

Along the way, we obviously wanted to protect ourselves and the boat against any strangers who tried to board it. A good start is to have someone sleep out on deck. When I’m cruising in the islands, I always sleep in the cockpit, mainly because it’s too stuffy for me below. By sleeping on deck, I’m also more aware of my environment. The only downsides are the full moon and rain showers. A wind shift or something rubbing along the hull can awaken me; so far, thankfully, it has never been an uninvited guest.

Even so, as I nestle into my made-up berth in the cockpit, I often imagine how I might respond if an intruder, or intruders, were to board my boat. Fight or flight? Confront or acquiesce? In 1966, as a US Navy journalist, I went through combat training with the US Marines in preparation for deployment to Vietnam. Those lessons are still with me.

Be aware and prepare.

Know that the dinghy is secure, either locked on astern or hauled up alongside.

Be sure that the swim ladder is up and secure

Have something on hand that could be used to discourage a boarder.

Think about what could be added for security. Pepper spray is an option. A dose of that spray in an intruder’s face, from 10 feet away, renders him blind, stumbling around, cursing and wondering how to get off the boat without falling overboard. (Before leaving Maine to join Richard in Bequia, I bought a $14 can and stuffed it into my checked luggage.)

A powerful flashlight is another innocent-looking weapon that many cruisers already have on board. The bright light floods the intruder’s face, destroying his night vision. For a few minutes, the intruder becomes blind, stumbling around the deck in an attempt to escape the light.

Also have a handheld air horn. A prolonged blast in the intruder’s face will leave him more concerned about retreat than attack. At that point, a long-handled boat hook might help prod the suddenly blind, deaf intruder to a hasty exit over the side.

The surprise of having someone confront an intruder is also a deterrent. Most uninvited boarders are not professionals; they don’t expect someone to confront them. Now, I’m not advocating for this as a general practice, but it is something to consider. Start by making sure the air horn and flashlight are within reach.

A prolonged horn blast will also alert anyone else anchored nearby. Commodore Joan Conover of the Seven Seas Cruising Association told me that she is a fan of the WoodsCan Hornet airhorn, which retails online for about $260. “First, it has a fast and easy-to-use pistol grip,” Conover said. “Second, boy, does it make noise!”

Keep the boat’s VHF radio on Channel 16, all night. If another boat makes the call that there’s an intruder in the anchorage, you’ll hear it. You’ll also be able to put out your own warning.

Thinking about bringing a gun on board? It’s not a wise move unless you are trained to use it, and have used it under fire. Shooting at clay pigeons doesn’t count. They don’t shoot back. You’re likely to do more damage with a gun than the intruder will. Even highly trained police officers make poor judgment calls in these kinds of situations.  

Preparation is preferable to confrontation, so try not to look like easy pickings. If your boat seems as if it would be hard to get aboard, then thieves will pass it by. Captain Josh Slocum, the solo circumnavigator, scattered steel carpet tacks on the deck at night when at anchor in a strange cove. The screams of pain from anyone boarding unannounced would awaken the savvy old skipper. 

Capt. Fatty Goodlander, a regular Cruising World contributor, rigged a homemade pressure switch under the cockpit grating. If an intruder steps into the cockpit, a loud horn activates, frightening the attacker and waking the good captain.

How about installing a motion detector on your boat’s mast, like the one that turns on my driveway lights when anyone drives in? I welcome the illuminated drive when I arrive at night, but an intruder may not. Wire one of those lights up to the spreader lights, and aim it aft. As soon as someone approaches the stern, the light comes on. That’s enough to scare away an intruder, and it’s handy when you arrive back from an evening ashore.

Be aware of what’s around you. If you are anchored alone in a strange cove, take extra precautions. Going ashore? Secure the dinghy, the engine and the fuel tank with a half-inch chain and a lock. Wire cables can be cut.

These days, there’s a scam on the islands in which dinghies go missing, not to be sold, but to be ransomed. When you come back from dinner, a helpful young chap shows up and says he knows where your dinghy is. He’s more than willing to show you for $500.

Some cruisers own a dog or two. If they are well trained and alert, they are worth their weight in gold.  

Resources to Help You Stay Safe

Doyle Guides addresses security in the Windward Islands in its guide books and app. The guide also notes anchorages where thefts are common.

Facebook groups for cruisers are another good source of information.

The Seven Seas Cruising Association, a worldwide organization for liveaboard cruisers, shares recent and past incidents on its website: www.ssca.org. Readers can sign up for daily or weekly notifications. 

Writer Chris Doyle provided a look at crime in the islands in the April 2024 issue of Caribbean Compass: www.caribbeancompass.com.

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