BVI ~ a British Virgin Island Trip
In 1981 we had the opportunity to join a group of friends who were,chartering sailboats in the Caribbean. Thirty of us flew to St. Thomas, then took the "Bomba Charger" to Nanny Cay on Tortola where we were assigned our floating homes for the next nine days. Audrey and Les, Hilary and Bill (no, not the Clintons) were terrific yacht-mates. We had arranged for half-provisioning, which turned out to be more than adequate. We ate a few meals out, but for the most part, took turns preparing the food ourselves. Now there was one rather serious dilemma ~ Rum was cheaper than water, so there was no shortage of good spirits aboard the vessels (pun intended)!
We have such wonderful memories of the sun, sea, salt air and fellowship. We sailed from Nanny Cay in Tortola to Norman Island where we explored the caves and snorkeled. The first night we anchored in The Bight and after sunset heard the sound of voices coming close. Strangers swam to our boat and were invited aboard when lo and behold, the female member was sans shirt! My gracious husband quickly removed his and slipped it over her head as she climbed the boarding ladder (much to the chagrin of she and a couple of others). J
The next day we sailed through the narrows between Tortola and St. Thomas to Great Harbor on Jost Van Dyke. That evening we went ashore to "Foxy's" for some dancing and a bit of partying. I ended up with $$$s in hand and an order for six T-shirts to be imprinted for Foxy! That's another LONG story and I'm not divulging what they wanted printed. I'm not certain I would do that today. The next day, after watching a topless female windsurfer we hauled anchor and sailed back through the narrows, stopping for lunch at Soper's Hole.
The next leg took us on to Little Harbor on Peter Island for the night. We saw our most beautiful sunset in this harbor and then rallied to hear bagpipe music - another LONG story. You really had to be there to appreciate it! The following morning we went into gorgeous Deadman's Bay where we swam and snorkeled for several hours. The sun was hot so we wore shirts to protect our backs and used water-proof sunscreen. I didn't realize that in such clear waters, the sun is reflected right off the sand on the bottom and you can burn even face down. I puffed up like a balloon and was rather uncomfortable for several days!
We went on to Beef Island before going out to the Baths on Virgin Gorda. That was another grand experience. We stopped at the Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbour for fuel and water, then anchored for the night in the safety of the inner harbor; next morning on to Gorda Sound, past Prickly Pear Island and to the Bitter End Yacht Club. It was while anchored here that we watched how the natives get the conch to "slither" out of their shells by hanging them over a bucket of water. We had a late dinner at the club that night which was lovely. The view from this anchorage was breathtaking for we could see several islands, including the now highly publicized Necker Island as well as the reefs of Anegada.
Our return trip took us to Marina Cay for our last night out before sailing back into Nanny Cay. When one of the group decided to jump into the water while others watched a barracuda in the shadow beneath a boat we were nervous. Anne Marie was fine but since that day we've used the term "baccaruda." It doesn't seem possible that in three short years this trip will be twenty years old !
Bay of Fundy, New Brunswick
We sailed to New Brunswick, traveling up through the Cape Cod canal on our friends' thirty-seven foot "Miladi". What an experience! It was still dark as we drove away from the house. I can't say I was nervous, but filled with anxiety about the length of time we would be beyond the sight of land.
Our third night out was very foggy, in fact the whole third day had been foggy. Les and Audrey went to bed and Mike took the helm. We had donned our slickers as the thick fog would quickly wet your clothing if we weren't protected. It wasn't cold, just damp and raw, probably about sixty degrees. I fought drowsiness as I sat against the bulkhead looking astern.
Mike occasionally looked over his shoulder checking the path our wake made in the water. Suddenly his expression told me something was wrong. The compass rose was spinning like a top . . . but our wake was perfectly straight behind us. He idled down the engine and asked me to wake the "Captain" and "First Mate". The walls of the Grand Manan channel were sheer rock.
Audrey, also the navigator, immediately checked the Loran and couldn't get a reading. Les came on deck and checked everything he could think of. Mike questioned a break in the steering cable but our tracking had been so straight, they knew it couldn't have been that. We headed off with Audrey checking and resetting the coordinates in the Loran as we motored. The compass was working as it should and it was time for more sleep. Unfortunately for them, our watch was over.
As we approached border waters between the US and Canada, we presented our hosts with a Canadian flag to fly from the halyard. It is nautical courtesy to fly the flag of the country you are visiting and they could now do it in style. I must say it felt strange to have our own US flag take a back seat.
Later that day Fundy Traffic granted us permission to enter Canadian waters. "Fundy Traffic here . . . Fundy Traffic. We can see you very clearly. In just a few minutes you will have a small fishing boat cross your bow. Hold your course" said the deep male voice over the radio. Sure enough, a minute later, we heard the "Putt, putt, putt" of a small engine and the Captain gave us a big wave as he crossed in front of us.
We entered the harbor by following the chart and the buoys. The fog was so dense, we could not see land. Soon we spotted the floating dock beneath the Hilton Hotel. Yes, it was beneath it in the sense that the tide was low we were literally about twenty-five feet lower than ground level! What a strange feeling.
The tides and thick fog in the Bay of Fundy, the Reversing Falls of the St.
John River, Kennebacasis Yacht Club where we were guests for dinner one
night and a "raft" we formed one afternoon were all added to our memory
banks. The water in the river is brown from tannic acid, we were told, but
sweet tasting and seemingly harmless.
Photo: J. Clark
Gagetown is a pretty little spot on the way to Grand Lake. We all secured lines to the town dock and were preparing our boats for the evening when we heard the skirl of bagpipes in the distance. The sun was beginning to set, the scene almost eerie.
Ever so slowly, a sailboat "ghosted" toward the dock. Standing before the
mast was a retired Canadian Air Force officer playing "Amazing Grace". You
would have to know my husband (with his Scottish background) to understand
why he dissolved. It was absolutely beautiful. We visited with the two men
and they joined our group for dinner. The next morning, we were awakened early to the sounds of the bagpipe,
this time to "Jesus Loves Me" by the same piper!
We sailed along the rocky coast of Maine to Mt. Desert and in one tiny little harbor bought fresh lobsters right out of the lobster cars and cooked them on board.
Note the newspaper "tablecloth" to keep everything clean!
I ate every single morsel I could manage to get out of the shell, claws and
even the feelers! . . .
On our return trip, we came into view of Acadia National Park from the sea. Those are just a few of the sailing memories!
Photo by M. Clark
