We got up a bit early so we could do last minute packing, and cleanup. The process of leaving requires more than one would do for leaving a campsite. But, ultimately we said goodbye to "Reaching Heaven" which served us well on the high seas, and many excursions to shore to barter with the local natives. Only the natives have gotten pretty capitalist savy in negotiations. We were nearly out of cash.

We walked back to the ferry terminal from the charter company, about half-a-mile, and under the 85-degree morning, I was covered in sweat by the time we got there.

USVI

The ferry ride was again, an hour. Sitting up top helped cool me down from the walk, but I ended up sunburning on knee which faced the sun. It was a small price for the air.

It's Ugly Again

We drove to Alexa's apartment where we to spend the night, then next day pack the car with her stuff. In the car on the way from Atlanta, she was posting a "FREE BED" which we hoped someone would be able to pick up the next day. Otherwise, we would have to get real creative on how to get rid of her large items. They certainly aren't going back to Boise on the top of a RAV4.

We got to Alexa's apartment, and she started digger around a bush by the door. The digging was getting a little more frantic and non directional. You see, while we were off sailing, she arranged to have a friend adopt her cat. She arranged also to leave the key under a log by the house. Apparently, the key was adopted as well. We sifted through grass and twigs, but no key.

We had to abandon the search as it was not 11pm. We have traveled all day; we were hot; we were sweaty. But more so, we were also homeless. Sandra found us a Hotel close by, so we harbored the storm at a Holiday Inn, and planned for how we were to get a key to the house. The choices weren't pretty. It's a Saturday on a 3-day holiday weekend, and we have a mission to pack up Alexa's items and get on the road for 6-days back to Boise. If there ever was a Ugly Chronicle...this was it.

NOW Begins the Trip Home.

We experienced our last night in the heat and the early morning ritual of closing and opening the hatches when the squall passes by. It wasn't a particularly strong wind day, so we felt we timed it right for our 10 days. On this day it was decided we needed to be near a beach for the last day; and one close enough to the marina where we could get the boat in by 3pm. You see, we are scheduled to catch a ferry the next morning and then our flight back to the states.

We cross the channel under motor from St. Peters to Tortola Island and found a nice little cove to hang out. Everybody went swimming and hung out on the sands except for White Whale Williams, who was more than comfortable catching a little shade.

Révolte

I shuttled Sandra over to some rocky shore where she wanted to get snorkeling. She didn't see much, so we hike up a nearby hill and found a French Restaurant at the top. Nice spot to be French.

We went back to the boat and gathered up the crew. Sometime, behind my back, a mutiny occurred. They wanted to grab lunch at the French Restaurant. Hmm, it was only Sandra and I who knew about this place. I was able to do some back of the napkin calculations and determined Sandra led the revolt.

It was 12:30, and I was getting a little nervous that we were pushing the envelope to make it back in time. Once thing I found with the French is they do not rush their meals. Sometimes you could spend 2 hours on the appetizers alone. In any case, we were hiking back up the hill to surrender to them (What a ironic reversal).

We sat on a nice circular patio and looked over the south side of the BVI's while we had small plates. We finished up, dinghy'd back to the boat and motored off back to the Marina. Sailing was done, it was now the start of the cleanup, organization and preparation to leave the next day.

Marina

We didn't have to motor long before rounding a point and moving up through the channel markers which 10 days ago we were going out through them. We called in to the charter company where we were arriving. A dingy with two guys approached us from a distance, and when close, one jumped on and took the helm. They prefer us novices do not bang up their boats while getting back to the slips. He motored us to a fuel dock to top of the tank. He spent considerable time pumping every drop to the rim of the nozzle intake. All this for 5-liters of diesel (remember, we fueled a couple days prior).

He backed us into the slip, and the crew sinched the lines. We immediately configured for shore power. When all hooked up, we turned on the air-conditioning. You wouldn't believe the sighs and ahhhs.

We ended up at the slip for a few hours waiting for the "Debrief", where inventory was performed, and questions of how the boat operated. It was a long wait for 20-minutes of debrief.

Shower, Cleaning and Dinner

On the last night Dillion and Alexa wanted to treat Sandra and I to dinner. We walked down the crazy road where we first came off the ferry and arrived at a nice Italian Restaurant. We stuffed ourselves and went back to sleep under the shut hatches and the blasting A/C. First night I used a sheet for warmth.

This day could arguably be considered the last true day of sailing. We have one more night on the water, and then the following day we'll have to motor in by 3pm and spend the night in the charter harbor. This is necessary as we have an early morning ferry to catch on the 26th to bring us back to the states.

But today was to be a BIG day on the water. We left Jost Van Dyke and 9am, and realized we were out of coffee. Opps, someone forgot to pick that up at the last stop. We also were out of beer, pop and beer. So, we sailed out a bit (maybe an hour and a half), then swung into a cool little place called Soper's Hole. We were informed there was a "Transition Dock" where we could pull up and run in for groceries then be on our way.

We navigated a very crowded marina to locate the dock. It wasn't so straight forward, but we found a T-dock and assumed it was the place. The (T) end was completely empty, so it was a good opportunity to "Practice" docking the boat. All lines were prepared, fenders out, and my ears tucked back for the run. We gently came up to it, slowly, steadily. At the last moment, I turn the bow off the dock and BOOM! Nothing. It all went perfectly. We stepped off the gangway all calm and secured the boat. Hope all the future ones go this smooth.

We spent about an hour at this "Transitional" dock, having lunch before we headed out. We didn't feel that guilty, as some guy came out at the start and asked for $10 to park there. He said he'd be back with the receipt, but he never did. We took our time, as we could always say we were waiting for our receipt. Once done, we sauntered out the way we came.

Beating Between Countries

Now out of Sopher's Hole, we set sails. The weather was perfect today, and the wind was a nice 16-knots. We were in between BVI and USVI. We toyed all along the international boundaries while we tacked up wind to where we would spend our last night in bays. We spent 6 hours sailing this day and was probably our best day out.

We found a bay around dead man’s bay (point, cove, ?), and attempted to grab a mooring ball, but they were someone "Out of Order"? We couldn't lift the ring, and the lead ropes were cut. We surmised that they did not want folks hooking up to these balls, so we shifted to the other side of the cove and found one. No one came out to ask for the usual $40, so we had a free night for once.

Getting out today was a sailing trip to Jost Van Dyke island. Hoping for more wind to make up for yesterday, but it was not looking to promising. Our hop to the island was in eyesight. "You, mean that bar of sand about 2 miles away"? That's hardly worth putting pants on for.

The Journey

We put up the sails when we got out of the bay and started a run downwind to the island. We were cooking about 1.5 knots in a breeze of 8 knots. "I can dog paddle faster than this". We let this go on for 45 minutes and again had to say, "Motor On". We brought the sails back in and sputtered for the mile distance.

Snorkel Moor Bubbly

Sandra has been getting more snorkeling done for the next 4 lifetimes. We grabbed a day-ball and hung out for an hour while she, Alexa and Dillion flip flopped around a small reef area called Diamond Cay. I caught up on some Chronicle writing and had a PB&J sandwich. They snorkeled back to the boat, and we powered another 400 yards to pick up our first "Reserved" mooring ball. So far, we've been picking up "First Come, First Served" balls, but we were told this area was going to fill up fast.

After we got on to our nightly mooring ball, Sandra and Alexa wanted to go over to a place called "The Spit". It's just a pile of sand surrounded by water with two palm trees. I motored them across the bay (maybe a half mile) to the spit. Another day the anchor and everybody but me was off doing the little mermaid. The limit of these is 90-minutes, so I didn't have long to wait before everyone was back on board.

Then, all it took was a 400-yard motor to the real ball we would be using at night. Diamond Cay was nice, there was a small restaurant in the bay called "Foxies". We dinghy'd to the place, made reservations for 6pm, grabbed a couple of road soda's and did a little walk to the "Bubbly Pools". It was a neat formation where at high tide the water rushes over rocks and forms a pool on the other side. We, of course arrived at low-tide, so were able to view the empty pool and ponder to our imagination what it must look like when it's something to see. I guess this is what YouTube videos are for. We ended up turning back in order to make our reservation.

We had a couple of drinks, fish and tacos for four (Final Bill: $280.00). Oh well, we can always eat crackers for lunch tomorrow. We played hearts at night. It was our second night really. We have still not finished a game before someone taps out, and then we all follow suit.

We decided to motor out through the channel off of Little Camanoe next to our mooring and avoid 4 hours sailing around Great Camanoe island. It was calm oddly. But allowed us to enjoy coffee on the go as we motored. The kids woke up and had their coffee on the go as well. After that We had a good way to go to round the North side of Tortola, and swing into Cane Garden Bay. This was where we were to provision back our water and get some drinking water as well. We were down to our last 3 gallons.

The Slow Go

Setting sail put us sailing a bit downwind, but unfortunately, there was little wind. We creeped along around 2 to 2.5 knots barely keeping awake. We did this for a bit, and finally had to admit defeat and motor the rest of the way. At least this would give our batteries a little charge to be under power. Seems like no one was complaining, after yesterday’s fight with nature.

Reset

We came into the bay, and immediately looked for the fueling dock. We saw a dock, but it didn't appear to have any support for fuel and water stations (like we're accustomed to seeing). We hovered and binoculared around, and finally someone came out from the gas station to help guide us to the proper spot. From there, he brought out both fuel and water hoses from a source long away--looked like work. It took a long time to fill up Water-Tank-1, but what a relief. Nothing to worry about for the next 3 days when we'll still be putting around..

After that, we grabbed a mooring ball in center bay where all the action was, and dinghy'd to shore for food, drinks and supplies. We ate at a place called Paradise, where I was finally able to find the elusive IPA. People down here must love themselves the Hops. Sadly, that's competition for my favorite beverage. After eating, Sandra and I procured some minor supplies at a local market and brought it back to the boat. I then shuttled her back to the beach where she and the kids spent all day burning. I on the other hand hung on the boat again, napping.

Laying Back

This was a good reset day. We had dinner on the boat again (Hamburgers). Then called it a night around 9pm. Tomorrow we're off to another island (Jost Van Dyke).

The Bitter End was a sweet spot on the itinerary. It cooled down a bit overnight, and for once, we did not have a squall wake us in the middle of the night. We got a late start as we took our time getting up, making coffee and general bumming. We took our trash to shore and paid them $5 for the convenience. Our water was getting short; it was somewhere between 1/2 to empty. We were not so sure if we should've trusted the reading.

We left the harbor under the engine as the wind was feeling strong. Turns out today was a much stronger day than yesterday.

Yikes!

We set sail, and thought, "Well yesterday was so nice and exhilarating, let's continue". The problem was, we were dealing with 17 knots at the start. It quickly ramped up. We got out at 11am and thought we would make it to the Dog Islands for "Some Snorkeling" before wrapping around Scrub Island, Great Camanoe and moor in Guana Island. That was the plan anyway. It wasn't the execution.

This is the kind of day where "Ugly Chronicles" means what it says. We were somewhat running downwind to make it to the Dog Islands when gusts of 22+ knots set in. WE NEEDED TO REEF! So, running through the process, we had to point upwind to release the power on the sails and reef them up. We were going for 50% power. An upwind hit us in the process and forced us into an uncontrolled jibe. Don't know how that happened but happened it did. We swung violently about and had to rush to correct. We reefed down to 75%, and all was manageable again. We continued sailing, and reached 6.2 knots on the boat (Fast). Alexa and Dillion were a bit concerned. I laughed it off. "It's sailing kids"! It was about then I checked my heartbeat rate on my watch. "Hmm, I guess it was disconcerting".

Given our late start, and the tuning we had to do on the sails, we knew we couldn't make it to our desited mooring in the Great Camanoe, so we decided to sail around the Dog Islands and moor around Marina Cay, it was a nicely protected area where we were able to be protected by the strong winds.

Relief

Wasn't much to do here, it was later in the day, so we cooked up some chicken and ate topside again. Pretty exciting day. We were over halfway now, we haven't used much fuel, but now had to switch to Water-Tank-2. We were out of beer, and provisions were running low. Next stop was our provision restocking.

It was a bit rough throughout the night. We had our normal squalls, and the occasional ferry passed by producing us some fine wakes. We weren't very protected in the St. Johns harbor, and we started to suspect the mooring ball we had overnight may have been a private one. No one came out on a boat to request money. It was quite possible we had a private mooring ball, and thus we were squatting. Nevertheless. We pulled out with our ears tucked down and doing a proper getaway at 3 knots.

Hitting Speed

Today we thought "No Reefing". We're going to use our entire mainsail and see what speeds we can attain. We put up, then the Genoa (jib) and let-er rip. Although yesterday was good, we hit 6.2 knots on the tack up to the Bitter End. When some hefty gusts came up, Alexa would voice "Should we be concerned"? Sandra and I, without Cheshire Cats grin would reply "Shush, we're trying for 6.5 knots"! For the most part, we just held a course and made a lot of ground. We practiced our tacks, as we headed out into open water toward Africa. We would point back into land now and then until we had a direct course through the channel markers taking us into a large bay that housed the Bitter End Yacht Club. Sandra called in on the VHF to see if there were any mooring balls available, and they said there were plenty. Left at 9:15am and made the Bitter End around 1:30pm.

The Bitter End

We hooked up to a red mooring ball and cooled off a bit. Sandra wanted to do a snorkel and finish with a hike; Alexa and Dillion wanted to hang on the beach and drink Rum Killers. I just wanted to hang on the boat and chill (so to speak). Once we checked in at the Yacht Club, went to the mercantile store to pick up a couple caps. My uncle Mike lost his, so I had to pick him up for a replacement. I walked in and announced, "I'm here for your awesome caps"! The reply was less than satisfactory. "We do not have them right now". Well, what do you know about that? I sailed all this way for some stupid hats and the only thing they could offer up was $100 swim trunks. Seeing as me and my current swim shorts have gotten really close over the course of this overheated bathtub, I think I will stay with what I have. (Mike. If you're reading this, there is an online presence which I am going to order the hats).

As everyone took their own way, we had to rely on our WhatsApp to communicate. I tested this out with Sandra, and it worked until she hiked out of the safe zone. Alexa and Dillion are running dark with no communication methods back to me. So, I waited and relaxed on the boat while they had their excursion. When it became around 5pm, I got concerned and had to go ashore to find them. Low and behold there was Alexa and Dillion with Rum Killers in their hand (or maybe it was Sailor’s Rum). It was two for one, so I was in "Don't mind if I do"! Sandra showed up, and all of a sudden, the squall came in. It was a pounding rain. We huddled under the beach umbrella, while I looked out in the bad where we were moored. Of course, I left the hatches open, so we just sat there knowing the saloon and beds were getting a wash down. Oh well, I have my Rum Killer in hand.

Before we headed out to dinner at the restaurant, we grabbed a quick shower. Ohhh, that was a good feeling to be all cleaned up before becoming a sweat factory in the up-and-coming sleep.

I woke up at 6:30am. Mostly the heat, but also with the nightly squalls in the middle of the night, I must get up and close the hatches. The sun, it seems, rises a lot earlier here. In any case, a lot was happening this day. The prediction for wind was 16 knots. Thus, the day under sail was looking glorious.

One thing we needed to do in the morning was make it to the Market to get a few more supplies and ice. They opened at 9am. We got there as they raised the gate. Not much we needed (Ice, Beer and Propane Canister). We dinghy'd back to the boat with our haul and started preparing for sail.

We pushed out of the marina area around 10am and decided to reef just a tad as the winds were 16 knots, and we wanted to see how the boat handled. When the genoa came out, we were off like a speed boat. This time we got to do a bit more tacking as we headed to The Baths at the South side Virgin Gorda. By God! There was more snorkeling to be had (for 3 anyway).

The Baths

We found the last mooring ball at the Baths and squeaked in behind a large Catamaran. The balls were close, so I was a bit concerned for the swinging radius. Theoretically, we should all swing the same radius. However, I've noticed sometimes this doesn't happen. We moored anyway.

Sandra, Alexa and Dillion hopped into the dingy and motored to the shore. You could only tie up the boat on a rope away from the shore, so they had to swim the rest of the way. I stayed behind and relaxed after a good day of sailing. I figured out the blue-tooth stereo and played my crunchy tunes.

When they came back, it was about 2:30. They overstayed their time by 15-minutes snorkeling around. I forgave them while I finished my beer and stretched my arms.

Now, it was time to head North to find us a mooring ball for the night. We set sail, but it only took 1 hour of effort to get to the spot. It was also our first Jibe in about 3.5 years.

Getting hooked up to the mooring ball was a real nightmare. This ball was not easy like the other ones in the BVI's where the loop was extended by a rope, so it weighs very little. This ball was like the ones we had in the San Juans, where the loop is at the end of a real heavy chain. With the wind we had to make several attempts to grab it and pull it up before drifting off it. We were spent after the labor of pulling that thing up and hooking it. We looked around the cove and couldn't see any other mooring balls. Most boats seem anchored. Hmmm, everyone must've given up on the ball except us.

Settled In

Once we were settled in, Alexa and Dillion decided to take a short excursion to the small town of St. Johns. Sandra and I hung back and relaxed. She convinced me to do a jump off the stern, which I reluctantly participated. It was at least cooling, but dang that water tastes funny.

Alexa and Dillion motored back in, and we started to make dinner. We now have a propane canister so we could do this outside on the grill. We had flank steak, corn and zucchini. It was basic, but the grill did the job, and the wine made a a nice finish for the day.

Something went wrong with our planning. Maybe it's scurvy. Or maybe it's that time and dates don't really mean anything here. We thought we would be picking up Dillion on the fourth day but turns out it's a day earlier. We initially had plans to go snorkeling at the park we missed yesterday due to arriving too late on Norman Island. Then we were to head up to Cooper Island to see a shipwreck and do more snorkeling. But now today was one snorkel less. We were now heading up to the end of Tortola (Trellis Bay) to pick Dillion up at 6pm (or so). My calculations said we had to be under sail by 12:30 in order to make it up the channel.

The snorkeling location was just around the edge of the bay where we were moored. We got underway and powered up to the park. Huh? All the mooring balls are already occupied! Sandra says, "They can only moor up for 90-minutes before they have to be on their way". OK. We got into a “poaching" position. Much like how one eyes a table at a restaurant for the first party to leave their table. So, who's it going to be? It's hard to tell who's just finished up their last sip of wine, and as asked for the check in this situation. We got lucky. Not but 5-minutes in, a catamaran or two picked up and moved on. We slipped in and grabbed a ball.

I've snorkeled a few times, and I like to think I'm a regular Aquaman when it comes to splooshing around in the water. But putting that mask, and taking a big inhale brought back why I don't like snorkeling. The mask closes off the nose. I'm no mouth breather, so it felt like waterboarding myself. I'll give it a try. Alexa and Sandra were already mermaiding their way to the rocks to get some floor bottom views. My breathing is getting heavier and heavier as I hyperventilating through that stupid mouthpiece. Can't the invent a nose snorkel? I get about half-way to the destination, and I've had enough. I'm going to hyperventilate myself into a panic. I turn around and get back to the boat. There! I can check-off snorkeling for this trip.

The Tack

We've realized something about BVI. The wind is a constant West-to-East blow. The island sits in the north. All we had to do was set a single tack toward Trellis Bay (East End of Tortola). We set sail about 12:20pm which we believed would be more than enough to get into the bay and see Dillion’s arrival. The winds were around 8-12 knots depending on the moment, and most of the time we were traveling at 3.5 to 4.1 knots. As we approached the end of the Tortola, we found we would have to tack a couple times in order to round the point. So, we got a few tacks in, and cleared into the bay (We motored that last mile).

Trellis Bay

The bay had quite a few mooring balls, so we entered through the Green/Red markers and picked us up on. We dingy’d to the market area where we sat on a dock gazebo having happy hour with Rum Killer drinks. Dillion was a bit late, but then we remembered our Customs experience and figured he'd be there a good 45 minutes with the inquisition. He eventually rolled up in a taxi-van full of folks he apparently made friends with and I'm sure will be exchanging Christmas cards moving forward.

We ordered dinner and then got back on the dingy to make our way to our mooring ball. It was dark now, so we had to guide using the reflection of the other boat's anchor lights. We knew the general direction and we found it in short order.

There were big plans of playing dice or cards, but what ended up happening was a direct beeline to the berths to sleep off the travels. Tomorrow should be 16 knot winds, so it should be vigorous.

Morning had arrived. It was humid and hot. IN THE BOAT! Apparently, our A/C had been stressed throughout the night and had frozen its coils. It was not the good night’s sleep I had hoped for. Sigh. I knew this short-lived bliss was likely the best I would feel for 10 days of South Caribbean climate. We were up, made coffee in the percolator on the gas stove as if we were in an RV park, and slowly started getting prepared.

We did a quick shower, and thought we could do laundry, but could not. It was time for the check-out. A woman named Hanna arrived at are boat and was to run us through the operations of the boat. We usually pick a Bennateau or a Jeanneau as they were built by the same manufacturer and thus everything is in the same place. I got asked a few interview questions such as "What would you consider low voltage in a 12v battery system"? Or "Where is breaker switch for the Windless anchor motor"? Whew, I was able to recall something things. The checkout was about a 90-minutes. I think it went quicker as it was muggy hot in our un-air-conditioned cabin.'

After that we were up to the office to show our travel itinerary. The charting official was satisfied with our plan and OK'd it. She even added a lot of stop over points for refueling and harboring. Phase II was now complete.

Phase III involved Sandra and Alexa heading into the bigger store for provisioning. I stayed behind and topped the water tanks and prepared the boat to leave as soon as they were back. So far, we have been 4 hours ashore, and the day was slipping away. When they got back, the charter captain came by to take our boat off the slip (They do that in this charter company). Getting out of the slip about 15 yards, she jumped off into a dingy that was tracking alongside. There it was. We were actually off.

Norman Island

When we got underway and we cleared the channel, we decided to finally put the sails up. We haven't done so for 3 years (Pre Covid). It should be like riding a bike, right? Some rigging was a little different, so had to wrap my head around that. Sandra and I did our thing; got the main sail up, then the Genoa. We probably spent more than we needed to get us under sail, but once we were underway on our tack, it was so relaxing. The big problem was we had bigger plans for the day. We wanted to go to Norman Islands and snorkel around "The Indians". a collection of shallows around Norman Island. It was 2:30pm before we were underway, so we had to skip that for the day and go get our evening mooring before dark sets in. We arrived at the area around 5pm, so it was definitely the best choice. Tomorrow, we'll snorkel the Indians.

In the bay there was a party ship moored along with the other boats. We decided to dingy over there to get a Margarita before going back to the boat and grilling dinner. This place was a-hoppin’. It was an old looking boat, maybe about 75feet, and fitted like an open bar. There were mostly folks Sandra and mines age, but a few intermixed 30 year olds. They were partying hard. We got our drinks and headed to the upper deck and relaxed while we detoxed from the day’s ordeal. Back into the dingy. It was time for food.

The evening

Back at the boat, we were to make Shishkabobs that Sandra and Alexa picked up at the store. However, it didn't take long to discover we forgot to ask for the propane canister. Opps! So, we had no choice but to undo our grilling idea and turn to baked Shishkabobs. It was dark when we had dinner and wine on the topside. Didn't have to worry about it getting cold and the coldest it will ever get overnight is 73-degrees. We went to bed with all our hatches open and a super-sweet little "Wind Scoop", which fits over a hatch and captures a larger swath of wind and directs it through the cabin. It was ok, but only when the wind was gusting. Somewhere in the night, I was awakened by drops on my forehead. I knew I was sweating, but I didn't think it would jump off my forehead and back. Then after my daze cleared, I heard it. RAIN! Our hatches were open, and the rain was not an Oregon drizzle. I was rushing to close all the hatches--words were said. The saloon floor had gotten a little wet, but not dangerously so. Dang, with those hatches closed, it was staring to warm up again. I debated whether I should reopen the hatches and let the air and water in or keep them closed and rely only on the fan to cool me down. Dammit, I had to go with closed. Catalog this as the high-score for warmest night.

Continuing on with the odyssey, we have now completed Alexa's graduation, The North Carolina diversion, and now we go for the 10-day sailing trip to the BVI's (Sans, Karen Johnson). We parted ways with Karen at the Atlanta airport in the Delta gates. Our trip downward was only a 3-hour flight to St. Thomas. This is in the U.S, but a territory. I've never been in a territory before. I suppose growing in SE Alaska in 69 (ten years after becoming a real state), could classify. However, you can always tell when you've entered a 3rd world country or (territory), by the fact you don't exit an aircraft through an air-conditioned gangway. No. They pull up the vehicle stairs and make you walk straight into the humidly without any phycological or physiology preparation. Once it touched my skin, my entire body lit up as a sweat factory.

We walked 45 yards into the airport, and ahh, air-conditioning. Also, free Rum samples. "Don't mind if I do". I tried the Coconut Rum and deemed it satisfactory. Then came what felt like when we go to Mexico. Haggling for a taxi ride. Alexa and I just sat back and let Sandra work on her Juju. Ultimately, we found our way into a collective van for $12/Person. It must've been a good deal, as the driver was no longer smiling.

He dropped us off at the ferry terminal in which we would transit from the U.S. Virgin Islands to the British ones. One thing we did notice was in the USVI, folks were driving on the Left side of the road. Like they think this is England or something. Have they not gotten the memo yet we kind of won that work a couple hundred years ago? Also, interesting. The cars they were driving had the steering wheel on the Left side of the car (just like us). I mean, they are us, but what the hey!? This was a hybrid experience I never expected.

We looked for some food, as at this point, we had gone 7 hours without food. We walked around carrying our geared-up backpacks in 92% humidity. Restaurants were closed. It was 2pm in the afternoon. Even in America, we allow for hobbit 2nd lunches all the way up to 4pm. No Go here in the USVI. We found a McDonalds and had our 10-piece Chicken McNuggets and convinced ourselves this was a proper way to exit the U.S.A.

Ferry Ride

Our ferry ride from the U.S. to the BVI's was about an hour. We sat on the upper deck of the boat and talked to other sailors heading off on their ventures. It was a pleasant ride. But once we docked it took quite a while to get off the boat and through customs. We were the last party off the boat and thus, I believe, flagged us for the interrogation.

customs: "Where are you from"? me: "Oh, We're from Boise". Sandra: "We’re just coming here from Atlanta after our daughter graduation". customs: "Seems like our stories aren't straight here." me: _{thinking: are you kidding me}? customs: "why are you here". me: "We’re going sailing. We chartered a boat". customs: "do you know how to sail?" me: "kinda do".

Then the obligatory search of our bags.

Finally, the $10.00/per person environmental fee to continue to what was our boat. Which was a 10-minute walk from this Spanish Inquisition. Once we paid the ferry man, we walked about 200 yards along a road where people drive on the wrong side of the highway, which was no wider that to bike lanes. We found our charter company at the marina, but they were closed. They left a note indicating we could head to our craft and proceed with a night's sleepover on the boat. No problems here. It was not 10 hours into our day, so a good sit on the deck with a beer sounded quite chipper (that's English). Our provisioning supplies have been delivered. 22 Gallons water, some condiments, spinach, 10 bottles of wine, and hmmm. No Beer! No Beer?!? It's 82-degrees and 92% humid, how is this acceptable? In this marina, it seems, the store is not fully stocked. So, we headed up along the double bike lane road, and were going to provision a few things to last three days until we could get to a bigger store. I found some Stout beers, which were acceptable. We headed back to the boat, and settled in for the next morning which would begin our checkout of the sailboat for our next 9 days.

The Boat

We were happy with our Jenneau 389 (39 feet sloop). A berth up front, another in the back, and it was air conditioned. Its name was "Reaching Heaven". The air-conditioning I'm sure made it so. We didn't last too long. We were asleep by 9pm and were looking forward to tomorrow to get through the check-out.