BVI - Final - Sad, not goodbye, but see you again sometime!

By this stage, after long discussions, Andrew and I had decided that we wouldn't go on to the Bahamas as planned. Andrew's brother, Anthony and his wife, Debbie, are joining us in the BVIs in March for a 2-week stay. This meant that we would have to make the 4 day, 1000nm journey to the Bahamas and then some if we wanted to go further west, pay $300 for a three month visa, which we would probably only use for a month, then make the journey back to the BVI. The journey back is what was worrying us. It is called The Thorny Path and apparently it is called this for good reason. One has to wait for the right weather window to start the journey and that could take some time. We would also be beating into the wind and the waves all the way back, not the best way to sail.

Once the decision had been made I could see Andrew relax, knowing that it was the right one. 

With this knowledge, the hike that Claire and I did on our last morning on Guana Island was super special. It was really nice to spend time with just her and have girlie chats while we rock climbed, slipped a little (me), and bundu bashed our way through spider webs (Claire), negotiating the slippery rocks and seeing the stunning view.  It was beautiful. So peaceful and quiet and a wonderful memory that I will treasure forever. 

Calypso through the trees

Follow the red ribbon and you won't get lost

Calypso and Sea Dancer. I just couldn't see Bully

Claire removing the spider webs (and spiders) for me

It was a lovely walk taking us high into the hills. We tried to find the bat caves but they were just too high and up a really rocky steep path.

We had walked to the other side of the bay but we really didn't want to walk all the way back on the precarious path we had taken. We were quite certain that this part of the island was private, so we sneaked down the hill, through a big field, past a massage hut and onto the beautiful big beach called White Beach, passing a sign on the beach side that said "Private - no entry". Oops!!

Andrew came to fetch us and after prepping the boat we left and headed for Buck Island. At this point we had circumnavigated Tortola. 

Jim and Claire came past us and took these beautiful photos of us!

After a brief sojourn at Buck Island, swatting flies and dodging the rain, we went across the water to Peter Island. We had been on the other side of the island before but I thought this side was so much more beautiful. We were allowed to go ashore to the beach, but unfortunately we were not allowed to walk on the roads on the island. There is a huge sign saying no entry on the road and a security guard told us we couldn't go there. Needless to say, a couple from another boat anchored nearby went ashore with hiking boots, backpacks and walking sticks! I'm not sure how far they got but as the security guard told Andrew, there are always those who read but don't follow the guidelines. 

There is a lovely resort at the top of the hill which was damaged during Hurricane Irma in 2017. It looked like they were working hard to get it open again. 

Andrew and I went for a stunning snorkel in beautiful clear water, while Laura went on the SUP along the shore. There are lapa type structures on the beach where residents of the resort can sit and be served lunch and sundowners. They looked like they had just been erected as there was quite a lot of rubble and wood lying around. The following day a digger arrived on the beach with a work party who picked up all the detritus, making the beach clean and beautiful. 

Paint tin seats

January was coming to an end which meant our BVI visas were going to run out. We did another trip to Road Town for Bully and Sea Dancer to do some last provisioning before heading off to the Bahamas.

Bully and Calypso

After a final farewell drink on Sea Dancer, everyone was ready to be heading off. The following morning Andre, Jim and Andrew went ashore to check out. And then it was time to say goodbye! I felt as sad as I was when I had to say goodbye to Matt almost a year ago.

Claire drove past us

And then they were gone

Soon after they left the heavens unloaded her tears

We still had a few things to do, so Andrew and I hopped in the dinghy and went ashore. Our main mission was to go and find Graeme and introduce ourselves. We found him sitting at his Deli, next door to The Watering Hole, and had a lovely catch-up chat.

Andrew, Graeme, Siobhan

On the way back to the boat we spotted the perfect boat name. Andrew generally has an anchor beer every time we drop anchor. An early morning anchor beer, however, is frowned upon.

All the necessary shopping done, rubbish dumped and the boat shipshape, ready for an overnight sail to St Martin, we headed out.

After about three hours we realised that the wind was not going to abate and the sea was not going to get calmer. The wind was meant to be gusting 20 to 25 knots but was more like sustained 25 knots and up. The waves were fairly big with about 5 seconds between each swell, which meant we were slamming into most of them.

Andrew and I looked at each other and decided that a night like that would be most unpleasant, so we turned to port (hooked a left) and went into Spanish Town on Virgin Gorda. You might remember that this was our first port of call in BVI, so it felt right that the circle had been closed.

She can sleep through anything!

We dropped anchor and watched the antics in the anchorage. One poor chap just could not find the right place to anchor and more than one person was watching closely with bitch arms on show. He eventually managed to anchor and found himself close to a mooring ball which another boat picked up later in the evening. I think he was fed up by that stage and decided to risk it and not move again! Bitch arms? Every salty sailor knows how to stand and watch another boat attempting to drop anchor too close. Hands on hips, elbows out, preferably with a frown and serious face. 

The following morning we watched the weather with bated breath, hoping it would calm down. At noon we decided to go and if it was terrible, well, we would deal with the consequences.

Thank goodness it had calmed down a lot, and by my second watch at midnight, it was a lot calmer. The wind was still forward of the beam and we were still pounding into the waves, but the swell was much less and each one was further apart than the day before. I struggled a bit with nausea after being down below trying to warm up supper, which I had cooked before we left. Laura doesn't seem to get ill at all and she needed to be fed. 

After a 24-hour sail, bloodied but unbowed, as my grandma would have said, we arrived in St Martin at noon, dropped the hook and breathed a sigh of relief. And of course, Andrew had an anchor beer.

In the next installment, we visit St Martin again, meet up with old friends, spend time doing boat jobs, and watch the world pass by.