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.
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.
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.