January 5-14, 2010

We arrived at the local airport, in darkness, 3 hours ahead of our 6:25am flight and waited, in what was initially a short line, for the staff to arrive half an hour later and boot up their computers, one… at… a… time. Despite all the hoopla about airport delays, and the queues did grow long, the airport crews moved us through, just in time for our scheduled departure. We had been concerned about making our connection in Charlotte, where we were scheduled for a one and quarter hours stop over. We had travel interruption and delay insurance but, for the first time, I read the fine print. Although airlines require a minimum one hour window for connections, there is actually no coverage for connections of less than two hours. Bummer.

However, it all worked out just fine. We boarded our second flight on time and then… waited. Waited for over an hour. Waited while they drained out excess fuel and reloaded the baggage. Apparently, due to overall airline chaos, we now had a big plane but St. Thomas still had a short runway.  Eventually, we got to St Thomas, late. The daily ferry should have left half an hour ago. But, since we were a significant portion of its passenger list, the captain, being a practical business man, held the other passengers while we rushed through town on a short taxi ride. After a one hour ride to Tortola customs, a short ride across the harbour to the Footloose docks and a moment to dump our bags on board our vessels we finally jumped into waiting taxies to head for the Royal BVI Yacht club for a late, but delightful dinner.

Once we caught our breath, we found that all 31 members of our party were indeed present. Even all our bags had arrived. The only hitch was one member, who had taken the time at the last airport to go to the men’s room to change into his shorts, found his wallet now wasn’t in either pants.
However, it all worked out just fine. His wallet had been found and turned in at the airline. Tired, with a full belly, and a head full of rum, we headed to our bunks where we slept the sleep of the innocence.

An area of 60 small islands, the British Virgin Islands are a sailor’s delight, with variable winds this year and a few scattered showers, only one of which affected us, for about an hour.  Biminis are great!
After a mandatory briefing meeting and provisioning we headed across to Norman Island, via Cooper, Salt and Peter Islands, which saw us moored at The Bight on Norman Island and ashore for cocktails, dinner and entertainment at the Pirates.

Next morning, after snorkelling at The Caves, we enjoyed a lazy sail in the protected waters of the Sir Francis Drake Channel, out the Flanagan passage, past the Indians at Pelican Island, to Nanny Cay at the west end of Tortola. Sheer luxury: docks, free water and ice, fresh water pool, hot showers and pleasant shops and bars. A short walk for dinner at the Peg Leg Landing, two free cocktails and more live entertainment.

Our next destination was the Great Harbour on Jost van Dyke, with plenty of time to stop at Sandy Cay. Our dingy captain successfully rode the surf right up the beach for us. Luck or skill? A pleasant stroll and some fascinating bird watching.  There were a number of small birds, mostly hunting sand flies, and a flock of feeding pelicans. He dives with that great big beak, that pel-i-can. Don’t know how the hell-he-can?

Oh, yes, sand flies! We left the island a little early and would never go anywhere without our can of Off again. Not sure whether the tide was rising or falling but the surf was definitely up. Our dingy captain had us turn the dinghy around on the sand (never buy a dinghy larger than your needs) and the four of us took a timed run at the surf, dragging the dinghy along and catching the outflow to clear water. With all aboard, in the bilge mostly, and the motor starting at the first pull we were on our way back to the mother ship. Another sail, a mooring ball, a cocktail, a BBQ and dance party at Foxy’s, a driftwood shack compared to yesterday’s brick and mortar. But never mind, the food was top notch and I think we ate three meals at one, long sitting.

Now, with a wave at Sandy Cay, we were off for an open water sail to Marina Cay. Last year Monkey Point was the best snorkelling north of Tortola but, due to large ocean swells, it was murky and short on colour. Pusser’s Restaurant was our port of call this evening for dinner with another complimentary pain killer and a spectacular sunset. Marina Cay is famous for the best selling book and movie ‘Our Virgin Island’. It is about the young English couple who purchased the island in the 1940s for $60 down. By the way, Pusser’s is (was?) the original rum of the Royal Navy and was used to preserve Nelson’s body.

Another open water sail took us past The Dogs to the Restaurant on Leverick Bay, Virgin Gorda, with docks, free ice & water, a pool, happy hour and a dinner/dance party. Do you see a pattern forming here? Is it sounding repetitious and boring? Hell no! Each night was different and an exciting adventure. Don’t forget, this sound is where Sir Francis Drake used to hide and it became our base for two nights; it is very large and is probably the best shelter in all the Virgins, in all weather. Close by were several mega yachts.

Next day was a taxi ride to the Copper Mine, Spanish Town and the ‘Baths’ to experience a walk down to the “beach”. We found huge granite stones, some wedged on top of others creating tunnels and caves, while others littered the bay. How did these massive stones come to rest here in such a small area? It is unique, with blue seas lapping at the edge.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, we prepared for a short motor across the bay to moor at Saba Rock, a fine resort. Good food & drink, free ice and water. But first, a dinghy ride to the adjacent Bitter End Yacht Club, well known to all yachties, for a place on the pontoon boat and opportunity to snorkel the Eustacia reef.

The coral atoll of Anegada, 14nm to the north, is flat, with a reef that extends out for miles. Having claimed over 300 vessels, it is littered with wrecks. With a good wind and gentle swells (it’s interesting to watch the depth-sounder slowly count 10’ up and then down) we made the journey in less than 3 hours. The only entrance is marked by buoys, thank goodness, as there are no natural visual markers to guide you through the dog leg gap in the reef that surrounds the island. This atoll is very open to all weather and the wind can be menacing at anchor, especially with over 30 charter yachts all squeezed into a very small area. No one minds; it’s a beautiful place. Anegada is famous for big lobster, pink flamingos and beautiful beaches, with snorkelling inside the reef on the northern coast. Although one of the biggest islands, it has a population of only 250.

No Jimmy Buffett this year, but the local band did themselves proud as we finished our “lobster” dinner. The local crayfish they serve as lobster has no claws but comes in pairs on very large plates. Accustomed to Tony’s generous EYC servings however, we were condition for the challenge.

Early next morning we had a Le Mans start for a race back to The Dogs. Handicapped by an outboard with a missing pull cord we broke the rules and “barged” our start. The others went ashore for the skippers’ meeting, a rum toast, a dash to the dinghy dock, a scramble aboard, start the engine untie the painter (you can’t hurry a polypropylene knot !!!) then a quick ride to the anchored boats with the windlass at the ready. After that it gets easier… a short, but careful, motor (Motor? Motor after the start?) out the cut in the reef, and another great reach back to the finish. Everyone was a winner in this race. A lazy sail from The Dogs, lunch on board, heading for Cooper Island (where a new motor awaited us) with a water-side view of Spanish Town and the Baths on Virgin Gorda. This is our last night and a Mahi Mahi dinner basically completed our cruise.

Next morning an easy sail along the Drake saw us moving at hull speed under jib alone. Too soon we were on the ferry back to St Thomas for our flight back home. The last bit of excitement occurred on the flight to Philadelphia when we were informed that the “heads” had not been serviced in St. Thomas and had reached capacity.  The crew’s solution was to simply curtail supplying us with any liquids… “How dry I am…”

We didn’t see any pirates and as for the buried treasure, we only brought home memories and pictures !!!

This was the 25th BVI cruise that “Sir” Harvey Cracknell (NYC) organized and, if you did not carry a watch, everything, again, went like clock work.

The EYC contingent consisted of: Skipper, Hank Bout (Devious); Mooring Ball Team, Pat McRae (Rhumb Punch) and Doreen Hilliard (Seventh Heaven); Dingy Captain, Terry Chapman (Seventh Heaven); Galley Slaves, the various restaurateurs on the islands. 

Now off to Glenn Eden to trade in our sea legs for ski legs.

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