Camels, needles and St. Martin’s Simpson Bay Bridge

I drove over the Simpson Bay Bridge today. For those who are not familiar with the island of St. Martin, that’s the lifting bridge that spans the entrance channel to the Simpson Bay Lagoon on the Dutch side of the island.
In the yachting season, which runs from around mid December to the end of April, the bridge is the scene of much action. It opens and closes six times a day as a steady stream of boats enter and depart the lagoon.
A few years ago the bridge span was lengthened, reportedly to allow the super yacht Limitless access to the Isle de Sol marina. I reported on the first transit of the said yacht. The only thing missing that day was a fire boat leading the parade while shooting water high in the air like they do in New York.
One of my lasting memories is the police boats trying to shoo everyone away from the channel ahead of Limitless as she made her stately way into lagoon. The way they carried on you would think Limitless could suddenly leap forward at a hundred knots and scoop up all before it. Still, the police know little about boats and a whole load of politicians were watching so I guess they had to be seen to be doing something.

The bridge has been the scene of many an expensive encounter. Navigating through the bridge can be tricky. A strong current, especially during spring tides, often rips down the channel. Couple that with a strong trade wind and you need some skill to thread a150ft super yacht through the eye of the bridge.
The best viewing point to watch the boat traffic is the deck at the St. Maarten Yacht Club. A noisy, vibrant place during the yachting season, visitors to the club have born witness to much screeching of torn aluminum, the rattle of steel on steel, the cracking and crunching of concrete, and the popping of fenders the size and cost of which would keep a cruising family if funds for a year. At one time skippers, having hit the bridge, could sneak away, carry out repairs, and hope all would be quickly forgotten. Now, everyone has a camera phone, and the super yacht’s owner is likely to see their multi-million dollar vessel performing, dents and all, on YouTube long before they get that woeful “it wasn’t my fault, boss” call from the skipper.
More on the Simpson Bay Bridge in the next blog, until then, I hope you enjoy the picture of Limitless, which always makes sailing through the Simpson Bay Bridge look easy.

Wear your life jacket or go to jail!

There’s a movement afoot in the US to make the wearing of life jackets compulsory for recreational boaters. I say stomp this movement out before it goes any further!
I have been sailing a long time. I have seen the changes made by various governments to, as they say; make things better and safer for the recreational boater. All government departments are in on the act - customs, immigration, licensing authorities and coast guard. I firmly believe that 90 percent of what they have introduced, or intend to introduce in the future, is designed not to make boating safer but to raise more revenue and curb personal freedom.
Before the proponents of health and safety start commenting, let’s get this one out of the way: life jackets and kids. Yes, I believe that under certain circumstances children should wear life jackets. I also believe that children should be taught to swim early on in life.
That said, how would these draconian rules work? How far would they go?
My mind is working overtime here, but bear with me.
Fail #1: You are on a mooring, the anchorage is flat calm and you and your family are sitting in the cockpit enjoying supper after a lovely day on the water. The lamps are lit, music is softly playing, and the kids are about to go to bed. Suddenly, out of the dark comes a man or woman in uniform to levy a fine because you are not wearing your life jacket. (Oh, and is that a beer you’re drinking, Sir?”)
The result … shock, shame and boat for sale.
Fail #2: The racing is close. You are in a tacking duel with the other hot favorite to win the Summer Series. Ten guys roll under the boom at every tack and launch themselves onto the windward rail. It’s hot work and the sweating crew are in T-shirts and shorts. A RIB approaches at high speed, you think the press photographers are here. Smile! What a mistake, they are coast guard. Instead of winning the cup, you are fined for not wearing life jackets, and the guy who works the foredeck, who gave them a mouthful, is off to jail in handcuffs.
The result … they have taken the fun out of what you love doing. Worse, they have taken away your freedom of choice.
A responsible skipper should know when to order the crew to wear their life jackets. Educate don’t legislate!
If this law goes through you can say goodbye to one of the last great freedoms left to mankind, the freedom of the seas.