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Rusty Sandals
Wednesday,
June 5 As we board, Nancy is pulled aside for the random passenger search. The trip from IAH begins with a return to the gate - a cockpit annunciator is indicating something wrong in the tailcone of the MD-80 aircraft. After about 20 minutes of investigation at the gate, it winds up being a problem with the annunciator itself, but it takes another 20 minutes to find a mechanic who is authorized to sign off the problem so that the aircraft can depart. We finally leave, about an hour late. We originally had a close (45 minute) connection at DFW for our flight to San Juan. If we make it at all now, it is going to be very tight. We land at DFW and literally run to make the SJU flight. They close the door on the 757 right behind us. We know that we will be without any luggage when we arrive in Tortola. No problem, mon, we are both dressed in island gear, and are wearing sandals. In fact, I didn't even pack any other shoes. The sandals on my feet are all I will need for the next two weeks. We have an uneventful plane change at SJU, other than both of us being selected for the random passenger search. We arrive on time (3:40 PM) at the new Terrance B. Lettsome Airport terminal at Beef Island. The ramp construction is not complete, so the American Eagle ATR-42 has to park a long distance away, which makes for quite a long walk to the terminal. Once we are inside, the terminal is very nice - in fact, nicer than we expected. Miraculously, our checked luggage is on our flight - minus one bag - my windsurfing masts. After I file a missing bag claim at the American Eagle counter in the terminal, Franklyn takes us to the Mariner Inn. There are 23 people plus Franklyn on his new vehicle, which he is very proud of. Actually, it looks like he may have two new vehicles - there is another identical one parked in the lot at the airport. Almost everyone else in the taxi is part of a huge Moorings flotilla that is sailing tomorrow. At the Mariner Inn, we bypass the check-in desk, which is mobbed with the flotilla, and head straight to the bar for our ceremonial rum punches while the rest of the crowd checks in. When we finish our rum punch, the check-in desk is clear, so we check in. Room 14 this time, which is upstairs next to the pool. We have been in this one before. We call Brandywine Bay and make dinner reservations for 7:30, then go back down to the bar for Caribs. Since we have bought owner's time this year, we already know that we will be on Texas Two Step, so we walk out on the dock to check her out. The cleaning girl is aboard and tells us that she will have the boat ready for us early in the morning. We shower and dress for dinner. We are twins wearing Jams World - my shirt matches Nancy's dress. We get a taxi to Brandywine Bay, a beautiful restaurant with a true chef, Davide Pugliese. Davide and his wife Cele are wonderful and gracious hosts. We start off with mussels and carpaccio, followed by herb-crusted halibut for Nancy and porchetta ripiena for me, with a bottle of Australian pinot noir. After the main course, I order the orange salad, then we simply order chef's choice for dessert. Chef's choice was a flan with raspberry syrup drizzle and a crunchy granola-like topping. Davide, the chef, is very attentive and makes our dinner a very personal experience even though there is another large group dining there. After dinner, we express our pleasure and assure him that he will see us again before we leave for home. The taxi driver had told us that it would take 2 hours for dinner and he was exactly right. We walk down the stairs to the taxi at 9:30 and are sound asleep by 10:00. We sleep like rocks after the long day. Thursday, June 6 We taxi the last stuff to the boat, then load our luggage and windsurfing gear (minus masts) and check out of the Mariner. The boat only has 2 bags of ice aboard, so we buy more 3 more bags and 1 block from the dockside grocery. The dockside grocery is convenient, but I definitely would not recommend provisioning from it, as it is a small store and thus has a very limited selection. I check the water tanks and find them full. We toss the docklines and are out of the marina by 11:00AM.
We paddle the kayak over to Cam Bay, then over to the little sandy beach across from Cam Bay on Scrub Island, where I pick some frangipani flowers for Nancy. She puts the flowers into her swimsuit top and we paddle back to the boat. Nancy empties the first gallon water jug into a pitcher and we make our first gallon of painkillers. After a shower, we head to the Marina Cay "Top of the Hill" bar for happy hour with Michael Bean. Bean is a great entertainer. He plays guitar, harmonica, an old squeeze box, and kicks rhythm on a plastic bread carrier atop a cardboard Carib box with microphones inside -- pretty clever. He puts a whole new meaning in "Arrrrrrrrrgh!". I win a shot of Pusser's Rum for knowing that Blackbeard's real name was Edward Teach.
We are back to the boat at 8:30. My list of satellite viewing opportunities shows SEASAT coming at 9:12, and the sky is perfectly clear tonight. SEASAT shows up precisely on time, moving right through the Big Dipper and very plainly visible. This is amazing for something that is 600 miles away, about the size of a Volkswagen, and lit only by sunlight. We go below and set the Breeze Booster. There is a nice breeze, and we are very cool. In fact, around 3:00 AM we have to break out a blanket. This will be the last night of the trip that we set the Breeze Booster. Friday, June 7
We paddle to Trellis Bay and walk around to
Sprat Point. On the way back, we stop at de Loose Mongoose for Caribs and conch fritters.
As we walk in, there is one other couple inside.
Afterwards, we go down to make our 7:30 dinner reservation at Pusser's. Conch fritters (of course), conch chowder, and snapper for both of us with a bottle of Penfold's chardonnay. We make it back to the boat at 8:45. Lights are out early, but it's a long time before we are asleep. We are still on that honeymoon.... Saturday, June 8 We are anchored at our traditional Anegada spot at 10:45 AM. We dink ashore and find Lowell setting a short length of 3 inch PVC pipe into concrete at the head of the hotel roundabout. He's always building something. His favorite toy is his front-end loader (not a toy one - a real one). He is like a kid in a sandbox with it on Anegada. The stub of pipe is the base for a flagpole. The flagpole will simply be a length of PVC pipe that he can drop into the base stub.
We talk to Wendell and decide to come over to Cow Wreck for dinner tomorrow night. Wendell says that they have a large group coming tonight. When we pay our tab, we find that Stinky provided us with some of the Caribs that we consumed this afternoon. Tanks, mon! We are back to the boat around 5:15. I take a solo paddle around to the ferry dock. It is breezy, making paddling the fat two-person kayak upwind quite a workout, but the thing really scoots downwind in the waves - surfing at times. When I get back, we clean up, dress (matching Jams World again - "pineapples") and go ashore for lobster dinner at the Anegada Reef Hotel. I have a 3 pound bag of Jelly Bellys for Keith and a bottle of Rabbit Ridge OVZ for Lowell. Lowell is looking good as always. There are few changes here from last year - a new covered table and some sand retention timbers on the beach. At the bar, we meet Mark and Joe, a father and son from Tortola, who are trying to guess where we are from. Their guesses are Baton Rouge and Kansas. They are very nice people and are amused because Nancy and I are dressed alike. Joe, 11 tears old, is a very neat and engaging boy, obviously highly self-motivated. They are from England, but have lived on Tortola for 7 years, and 2 years in the Caymans prior to that. Mark's wife is back in England and Mark and Joe flew over for a night in the hotel. This is their first visit to Anegada. Keith has Thursday as his day off, and is planning to go to Tortola this Thursday. He invites Nancy and me to go to Tortola with him so that he can show us Tortola from a non-tourist perspective. This sounds interesting: visiting Anegada and flying to Tortola for a day trip, essentially doing the Anegada thing in reverse. Nancy and I decide that we will do it. We enjoy a couple of "smoodies" (the proper pronunciation here for smoothies). Ellie is working at the bar and her son Mikey, who is now 5, is sitting on a stool at the bar. Mikey is surprised that we know him (we have known him since he was a baby). I tell Mikey that everyone knows him. We enjoy our lobster dinner and catch up with Lowell at the bar. Lowell and I eventually get around to airplane talk (he owns a Cessna 206), He cannot get instruction since 9/11. He has a grand total of two hours of instruction in his logbook, but flies solo about 3 times a week. He hopes to get signed off for solo before long.... Captain Glenn from Sunsail spots Nancy and is on her like a refrigerator magnet. We have bumped into Glenn a couple of times in years past, and he apparently remembers. Glenn danced a lot with Nancy a couple of years ago at Billy Bones. Afterwards, Nancy jokingly said that Glenn must have had a really large dinghy flashlight in his pocket. Glenn wants us to go next door to Potter's disco. Maybe he still has that flashlight. Nancy and I are still chatting with Lowell, so Glenn leaves for the disco. The Stinky and Kneafsey crew drifts by - headed for Potter's also. However, they are back soon - nothing is happening there. Glenn is back also, hanging close by. Nancy and I are the last to leave the bar. We dinghy back to the boat for another good night of sleep. Sunday, June 9
Mark and Joe are at Cow Wreck, Joe out snorkeling all over the reef. Nancy takes a nice walk around the point to Bones Bight. I paddle the kayak solo out beyond the reef into the open ocean. Joe wants to try the kayak, so we let them paddle around a bit. We make dinner reservations with Alex, then paddle back around to the boat. It is quite a bit harder once we round Pomato Point and are paddling into 20-25 knot wind and steep chop. We make the trip back in an hour and 30 minutes.
Alex picks us up for dinner at Cow Wreck. We have lobster and shrimp. Bell's lobster is very good. It is split, with the meat breaded with a very light mix of bread crumbs, garlic, and other seasonings, then broiled. Nancy says the Rosemount chardonnay that we have with dinner is "pirate wine" because the cork is covered with R's. It's a Michael Bean thing: "Arrrrrrrrgh!". After dinner, we start out with Tika driving us back to the hotel and Nancy holding Shayna, Tika's precious little baby. Near the Pomato Point Restaurant, we meet Wendell driving the other way, Tika and her baby exchange places with him, and Wendell drops us off at the hotel. Back at the ARH, we have a smoodie. There are very few people around tonight. We talk with Sydney and Clinton for a while, then head back to the boat. We lay out on the tram for a while. I go to sleep on the tram, but wake up around 11:30 too cool, even with the blanket, and go below for the rest of the night. Apparently, during my sleep below, I dream that I am still up on deck. I am awakened in the middle of the night by Nancy asking "What are you doing?". I realize that I am peeing, so I stop and answer "I'm peeing", then I resume. Here is the situation: I am sitting on the side of our berth, which is about four feet above the floor. Yes, I am peeing - off the side of the bed nonetheless, and it is making a very loud sound as it strikes the wooden floor sole way down below. The sound is what woke Nancy up. Nancy says "You are peeing on the floor!". I stop again, and sleepily reply "Yes, I guess I am", and continue again. Nancy then says "You are peeing on my shoes!" I pause briefly, consider the situation, finish peeing, lay down, and go back to sleep. Nancy is not amused, and has trouble going back to sleep. Monday, June 10 I'm going to do some sailing on the Thommen today. There is decent breeze by 7:00, and I sail until 8:00 on the 9.6. Calypso Queen motors out around 8:00. We have a big breakfast aboard this morning: bacon, eggs, English muffins, coffee, and orange juice. Food sure is good in the sun and breeze. We are limin' today. We dink ashore and visit the "mall" (Sue's shop). At the mall, we meet JD (another TTOL'er) and crew. JD owns a Beneteau 402CC "Daix Dream", but is chartering a Lagoon 38 catamaran. They were sitting at a table finishing dinner last night as we are walking to the dock, and called me by name, but I didn't quite hear. JD tells me that they are having problems with the propane system on their catamaran and we discuss how to troubleshoot it. On the way back out to the dock, we run into Keith. Keith had seen me sailing this morning out near the reef and tells me that I must be careful because the sharks are in and they are hungry. Clinton's commercial fishing boat "Aviance" is tied up at the dock, so I ask Keith about when Clinton goes out fishing. Keith says "E's goin' out taday - ya wanna go wid im?". I say "Sure!", so Keith runs and tells Clinton that he will have someone on the boat with him today. I take Nancy back to Texas Two Step and pick up the camera and a few Caribs to take on the fishing trip. Before Clinton and I leave, Keith brings out a plate of fish that he has just cooked. It is absolutely delicious - firm, white, tastes like freshwater perch or tilapia. I ask Clinton what kind of fish it is. He says "groopah" and smiles at Keith. Keith finally admits that it is "shock". It turns out that it is a small blacktip shark that Clinton has just caught and cleaned. Keith put some Bohio seasoning on it and pan-fried it. Man oh man, this fish is as good as any I have ever had!
Clinton is 55 and retired from government service. Apparently, there was some sort of disagreement between him and the government and he wound up getting an early retirement. He gets about a modest retirement income from the government, but makes many times that from fishing and his rental properties (Lavenda Breeze and Bonefish Villa). Clinton has been married to his American wife for 37 years, and they have three children, all grown and professionals. His wife is currently in the US - there has been a death in her family.
Back at the hotel, I sit on the dock for a while and talk with little Mikey. He tells me that he has two girlfriends, Jamie and Annette. We dress for dinner at the hotel. Clinton has promised to catch another blacktip shark for me to have for dinner, but he fails to produce, so tonight it is snapper and Penfold's chardonnay. After dinner, we lie out on the tram under a sky full of stars. Nancy goes below about 10:00, but I wrap up in a sheet and blanket on the tram and sleep until a light shower forces be to go below at 4:15 AM. This is our first night rain of the trip. Tuesday, June 11
At Cow Wreck, we talk for quite a while with Alex. He tells us about Wendell's incident with Sunsail. Wendell used to lead a Sunsail flotilla into Anegada. A couple of years ago, Wendell was helping a boat pick up a mooring at the hotel. There was an accident, and the boat ran completely over Wendell, resulting in Wendell's hand being severely broken. Wendell now has steel implants in his hand. Sunsail refuses to help Wendell with the medical bills, which are considerable. When we set out on foot this morning for Cow Wreck, I forgot to bring my wallet. This is no problem at Cow Wreck. Our tab can remain open as long as we wish. This is truly a wonderful place.
I run into Keith up on the beach, who asks how long we will be at Anegada. At his point we aren't sure, but we know that it will be at least until Friday, since we are planning to go to Tortola with Keith on Thursday. Keith asks what will we do for the next few days, and I tell him that we have nothing to do and jokingly say "I need a job." Keith tells me that if I am serious, he would like for me to come and help him work tomorrow. He starts work at 7:00 AM, but will have breakfast ready a little after 6:00. This sounds interesting to me, so I accept. I will get to learn yet more about Keith, the island, and everyday life here. We shower and dink in for dinner. I spot Wendell out working on his boat "Just a Little Bit II", tied up out on the dock off Potter's. I walk out and talk with him a while, getting the details on the Sunsail incident. He tells me that he was in his own small power boat and was helping a Sunsail charter catamaran that was unable to pick up a mooring line. As Wendell handed the pennant up, the Sunsail skipper hit the throttle and went into full forward, running completely over Wendell's boat. The mooring pennant wrapped around Wendell's hand and snapped many bones. He says that Sunsail will not even talk to him now and is claiming that, according to their documents, the catamaran that ran over Wendell was not even out on charter that day. Assholes! Smoodies at the bar, we visit with Clinton. The Queen's birthday celebration this weekend is going to be a really big thing. This is Queen Elizabeth's Golden Jubilee, celebrating 50 years on the throne. The ferry is going to bring over a marching band, the governor, the chief minister, and lots of other folks. There will be a parade and a huge open-house party at the hotel with free food and drink. It looks like we will have to stay through Saturday! For dinner Nan has chicken, I have ribs, and we have a nice Penfold's Koonunga Hill Shiraz/Cabernet. The barbecue chicken and ribs are delicious. After serving dinner, Lowell sits at our table with us and we enjoy his company. Wednesday, June 12 We start the morning's work by hauling off the trash to the dump. On the way to the dump, Keith asks me if I would mind driving. I tell him that I would be happy to drive, so we exchange places and I become the driver for the rest of the morning. After we have dumped the trash and cleaned the bed of the truck, I drive over to the cargo dock where we pick up a couple of truckloads of cargo that arrived on the boat overnight. There are eggs and other food items, merchandise for Sue's shop, and lots of beer, liquor, wine, juice, and soft drinks for the bar. There is also an important package from the government with the official decorations for the upcoming Golden Jubilee celebration. We take the cargo back to the hotel and unload it, stacking Sue's merchandise in the room next to her shop that was once Lowell's soap factory, and stacking the food and beverage items in the hotel storage building beside the kitchen. Then we go and look for firewood for the barbecue pits. I learn all about how to identify and pick "torchwood". Keith explains to me that the torchwood lights easily, is dense, makes very hot coals, and burns for a long time without going to ash. While we are gathering wood, Keith shows me his limin' spot up at Windlass Bight. We gather a full truckload of wood, which we take back and unload behind the hotel. Keith has been barefoot the entire morning - even out in the thorny brush picking the torchwood. His feet must be made of leather. Keith makes a taxi run while I use an axe and chop the large pieces of wood into segments that will fit into the barbecue barrels. I'm not sure that I have ever been this filthy in my life: from cleaning fish to hauling trash to pulling torchwood from the sand, I am covered with grit and grime. We drive over next door to Pam's Kitchen, where Keith buys me a fried chicken lunch. I hose myself off with Pam's water hose and enjoy the chicken.
Thursday, June 13
Keith and I walk a short distance up the steep road at the base of the mountain to our first stop, to deliver the fish that Keith was cleaning earlier this morning. The woman that Keith has brought the fish for is not at home, so Keith leaves the bag of fish with a neighbor. We chat with the neighbor, an elderly woman, for a few minutes. She says that she will refrigerate the fish. The fish, mostly snapper with a couple of olewife (flounder), have not seen ice or cold for a couple of hours now, but they were semi-frozen when Keith cleaned them. As we leave, Keith pulls out his cellphone and calls his old friend George, who arrives very quickly with his taxi. George drives us over and drops us off at Village Cay, where we have lunch at a small place called Simply Delicious. I have curried chicken with spinach rice, which is very tasty. Next, we stop at a pharmacy where Keith buys some Nair for facial hair. I suspect that his beard is about to go away. Then we walk up to a combination hair salon/snack bar/internet cafe. I wait at the snack bar while Keith disappears into the salon to get trimmed. When he reappears, the beard is indeed gone. I guess the Nair is for keeping his beard down for the next few days, since I doubt that Keith has a razor. George picks us up and we drive over the mountain to Cane Garden Bay. Keith wants me to meet his friend Skelly, "the man with no belly". We ask around and search the beach area and stop by Skelly's house, but cannot find him, so we drive back to Roadtown where George drops us off at Scotia Bank. It is nice and cool inside, and there is a long line waiting to do business with the teller. Keith's business with the teller takes several minutes, and I enjoy sitting and resting in the air conditioning. From the bank, we walk over to Bolo, a department store. Keith tells me that he likes to visit the store because it is cool there. However, it is not nearly as cool as it was in the bank. I think that the truth of the matter is that Keith likes the girls that work here. It seems that Keith is quite the lady's man. For the entire morning, we have been unable to walk (or ride with George) for more than a block without a girl yelling hello to Keith, and us having to stop and visit. Even though Keith has been living on Anegada for eight years, he has friends everywhere - especially female friends. George tells me that when they were in high school, Keith "control all de women". After Bolo, we walk over to Scato's to get chicken and chips for Keith to take back to Anegada for his dinner. I also get some chicken and chips to take back to Nancy. George picks us up at Scato's and drives us to RiteWay Cash & Carry (also known as Roadtown Wholesale) for Keith to do his grocery shopping. Keith picks up 12 gallons of water, several cases of canned vegetables, and a case of soft drinks. We load them into George's taxi and head back to the airport. George sees a woman walking along the road with an armful of packages, and stops to give her a free ride.
Since we have time to kill, we walk over to Trellis Bay. Of course, Keith and Jeremy know each other. Keith was working over at Nanny Cay when Jeremy had the Boardsailing BVI shop there. American found my masts and they are at Jeremy's. I will just leave them there and pick them up when we sail back into Trellis Bay to return Jeremy's board, masts, and kayak at the end of our trip. We have a fish salad and a baked potato at Jeremy's, which are delicious and we are both hungry. The ice cold Carib is also good. When we order the food, Keith is shocked to learn that they can bake a potato in only six minutes - he is unfamiliar with a microwave oven! Jeremy introduces me to Aragorn. I tell Aragorn that I would very much like to have a piece like his wonderful coral eye with metal dreads that is in his shop that is, of course, not for sale. He gives me his card and says that he may be able to do another as a commissioned work, provided that he finds a suitable piece of coral. His email address is dreadeye@surfbvi.com, and I realize that "dreadeye" must be the name of the coral eye.
Tony picks us up, then he drives up to Loblolly Bay to pickup someone getting off work at the Big Bamboo, then back to the Settlement for more afternoon pickups and drop-offs. We run a regular route through the Settlement, more like a Metro bus than a taxi. Just outside the settlement, I see Lowell pushing sand around with his front-end loader. As we drive along, Keith tells Tony that a lady called him this morning and asked him to stop by and help her move something heavy, so we must stop at this lady's house on the way back to the hotel. We stop at her house, which is not far ahead. She is obviously very well educated. Her item that needs moving is a heavy concrete birdbath. It seems that the birds are unhappy with the birdbath because it is in the middle of her back yard, out in the sun. She believes that if we move the birdbath to a shady spot, the birds will make use of it. This is important because, at the present, the birds are choosing to perch on her roof and their droppings are spoiling her cistern water. I ask about her struggling garden and she tells me that it has been difficult to get it started because it has been very dry and the crabs come at night and eat her young plants. As we leave, I see the "Columbia University Alumni" decal in the back window of her car. Anegada is indeed a fascinating place. When we finally get back to the hotel, we unload Keith's cargo from Tony's taxi into Keith's quarters behind the hotel. I walk out on the dock and yell out to Texas Two Step to ge7t Nan's attention. Nancy dinks in and picks me up. She has spent the day sunning, swimming, and paddling. We have a couple of painkillers (we are on our third gallon of them now), then head back in to the hotel bar. Things are slow ashore. We laugh a bit with Clinton and Lowell. I joke with Lowell about playing with his big toy (the front-end loader) in the sand. He understands the joke and laughs. We have fish, shrimp, and a Penfold's chardonnay for dinner. We make it back to the boat around 9:15 and lay out on the tram. SEASAT shows up right on time at 9:22. People dink by on their way back to their boats, and there is a big Lagoon 470 anchored not very far off to starboard. It is nice that the new moon has just passed and that the moon has already set - we are invisible on the tram and people cannot see what we are doing. Friday, June 14 We stop at Pal's General Store, "the world's smallest department store", which unfortunately does not have a stationery or office supplies department (or much else, for that matter!). The only writing material she has is a small package of envelopes, so she directs us across the road to Faulkner's Country Store. Inside Faulkner's we meet the proprietors, Stan and Doris Rodriguez. Doris is the niece of the Faulkner who started the store (now deceased). They have been married for 50 years and they are quite a pair. Doris was born in New York City and raised in the Dominican Republic and New York. They have a home in the Hamptons (Sag Harbor) and a home in the Dominican Republic, but have lived on Anegada for the past 12 years. Doris tells us about about being in Austin in the 60's, working in Lady Bird Johnson's Beautification Campaign. She has been involved with the National Organization for Women, the International Organization for Women, and has participated in events at the White House Rose Garden. I tell her that I am keeping a journal and need some writing paper, and she asks Stan if they have a writing pad. He says that he believes that he got one some time ago and will see if he can find it. Stan goes and digs around a bit and walks out holding a 100-sheet writing tablet. We pay for it, a couple of cold Tings, and a bottle of water, say goodbye, and head off. These are fascinating people - it would be terrific to come back and sit and talk with them at length.
We start back to Cow Wreck, but instead of
back through the wilderness we drive around the south side of the island so that we can
stop along the way at the Anegada Reef Hotel and order our dinner. Leaving the hotel, we
pull off onto the little road to the flamingo pond across from Neptune's Treasure and we
can see a few flamingos on the eastern edge of the pond. We also find also a dead cow
here, which I estimate has been dead for 2 to 3 weeks. Since there are no vultures in the
islands, crabs must do the scavenging.
We drive over and look at Wilfred's cottages
at West End Point. They are nice, but appear likely to be severely damaged by a good storm
as they are just barely above the water's edge. Next we drive to the Anegada Reef Museum
at the Pomato Point Restaurant. The museum is no longer open, so we drive back to the
hotel where we call an end to today's tour. I go for a short sail, then pack up all of
my windsurfing gear and take it back to the boat. Tomorrow is the Queen Elizabeth Golden
Jubilee celebration on Anegada. A large crowd is expected, so I don't want my gear laying
about. Dinner tonight is ribs and lamb, with another Penfold's Koonunga Hill
Shiraz/Cabernet. Keith asks me to come in early in the morning and help him, as there is
lots to be done in preparation for the jubilee. After dinner it is back to the boat and
time to lay out on the tram for a while. Saturday, June 15 We start out in the truck, but it needs fuel. Kenneth Faulkner's service station is not open yet, so we have to resort to alternative means for refueling the truck. We pour diesel fuel from a 40-gallon drum into a plastic washtub, then lift the tub up onto the truck bed. Keith produces an old piece of garden hose to use as a siphon. I stick one end of it into the tub, and Keith starts the siphon by mouth. The siphon is reluctant to start, and Keith winds up with several mouthfuls of diesel fuel before it is flowing properly. When it does start, I siphon fuel from it into the truck's tank. The process is complicated by the fact that the tub has a major crack in it and leaks fuel faster than the siphon takes it. Keith quickly produces a gallon water jug with the top cut away for me to use to catch the leaking fuel, and then he disappears. I hold the jug under the tub to catch as much of the leaking diesel as I can, continually dumping the caught diesel back into the tub, while also keeping the old piece of hose that I am using for the siphon immersed in the diesel fuel so that the siphon does not stop. Even though I am now covered in it, I don't really want to have to taste the diesel fuel by restarting the siphon. This must be quite a sight to watch! Keith soon returns, telling me that there has been a change in plans. Lowell has something else that he wants Keith to do right now, and there is nothing I can do to help him. It looks like I'm done working, so I dink back to the boat and shower to get the diesel fuel off of me. After 10 days aboard Texas Two Step, we are on our last bag of ice, so I dink back to the hotel to buy ice. I pay for two bags, but there is only one bag in the ice box. Everyone is busy preparing for the Jubilee and by now I pretty much know the hotel operation, so I go out back to the ice house and fill two bags myself, then take them back to the boat. Nancy and I paddle down to the beach trash sculpture and add some more stuff to it that we have accumulated. When we get back, I remember that we want to get some frangipani cuttings to take home, so I dink ashore thinking that I might just walk out and find some. Keith, done with whatever Lowell needed earlier, spots me and calls me over. He desperately needs help. There is still much to be done and not much time, since he must be at Big Bamboo at 1:30 with the taxi to pick up a group of people. I unload a truck full of cargo into the storage building. The cargo is mostly beverage items, but there is a lot of it. When the cargo is unloaded, we take the truck to get firewood. Once again, I am the driver. Keith is hungry, so we stop at Faulkner's Country Store so Keith can buy some cookies to hold him over. He tells Doris that we are on our way to cut firewood and that I am going to get some frangipani cuttings. She tells Keith that she would sure like some orchids, which he has apparently promised numerous times before to bring her, but never done. As we leave, she gives us each a cold drink from the store's ice box. I tell Keith that we must bring her back some wild orchids. Keith and I go over to the north side of the island and gather torchwood, completely loading the truck. Then we head west, where Keith knows there are wild orchids. He shows me how to spot them. As it turns out, there are lots of wild orchids on Anegada - you just have to know what to look for out in the wild outback. While Keith gathers yet more torchwood, I use the machete to carefully collect seven nice orchid plants for Doris. When separating the orchid root (orchids are parasitic plants) from the host torchwood, I have to be very careful to keep the long flower stem and delicate flower intact atop the orchid plant and root. Next, we head back through the wilderness, where we stop and I get about 20 frangipani cuttings. We take the orchids back to Doris, and I also give her some of the frangipani. She is delighted, and that makes me happy. She tells Keith "You have been promising me orchids for years, and it requires this man from overseas for me to get any!" The Rodriguez's house, which is next to their store, is fairly typical of the older Settlement houses. It is a small simple house, very well maintained but, of course, not air conditioned. She has a nice little garden in the shady area between the store and their house. She tells me that she visits their home in Sag Harbor a couple of times a year, and would like to return to live there, but that Stan won't leave the island. "He won't budge!", she says, "He has set deep roots." As we leave, she tells me that her new orchids will be beautiful when Nancy and I return next year.
After everyone has a served themselves, the Governor Savage speaks. It seems that the legislative council has decided that Anegada has been neglected, and is therefore considering having a sovereign's birthday parade on Anegada every other year, alternating years with a parade on Jost van Dyke. I think to myself that yes, what Anegada really needs is a parade every other year. That should greatly improve the conditions here.
When we dink back in, things are very quiet - only Lowell, Nancy and I are at the bar. The overnighters from Tortola are probably inside their rooms enjoying the air conditioning and changing clothes for dinner. Around 7:00, people begin appearing, including Governor Savage in casual dress. By the time dinner is served, there is a good crowd. Sue sits with Governor Savage for dinner with Lowell across the table. It is our last night on Anegada, so Nan and
I each have another ARH lobster. After dinner, we say goodbye to all and head for Texas
Two Step. Sunday, June 16 The eight days on Anegada have been very pleasant. I have spent so much time with the locals that I can carry on conversations fairly easily with most of them, and, unconsciously, "Ah beginnin' ta tock lak dem". There is way more construction going on now than we have ever seen before, and that is disturbing. A lot of the construction appears to be willy-nilly and just doesn't make sense to me. There are three more restaurants under construction within spitting distance of the hotel. If they all complete, that will make eight restaurants within dinghy range of the hotel anchorage. Where will the business come from to support these? There just are not that many boats in the anchorage, and you have to consider that some of the boats that are there are not eating ashore. There certainly cannot be enough land-based business to support eight restaurants, since outside the hotel, which really is small, there are only a handful of cottages around. Also, I suspect that a large percentage of the cottage visitors cook for themselves. Will there be a lot of deserted restaurant buildings at Anegada in a few years? I don't know, but I do know that the restaurant business is difficult at best under the most favorable conditions. As much as I enjoy Anegada, I would not want to live here. This is not because of the harshness of the island, but rather out of love and respect for it: outsiders moving here, myself included, would change things. I hope that others feel the same way, and that Anegada remains the relatively pristine place that it is for years to come.
We are moored at Leverick at 9:30. We dink in and find that Palm Tree Gallery (the shop with the frogs) is not open yet, so we shop at Pusser's for clothes. By the time we are done, Palm Tree Gallery is open and we find three interesting pairs of frogs. We stop at Buck's Market to get a couple of gallons of fresh water, then fill the dinghy gas tank at the fuel dock before leaving. We consider stopping and snorkeling at
Starfish Reef before leaving the North Sound, but decide to head on to Savanna Bay. We
motor through Anguilla Cut, then set sail for the short run down to Savanna Bay. Anguilla
Cut is tricky if you do not know how to navigate it. If you do know the way through and
there is no ground swell, it is quite passable as there is a good six feet of water all
the way. I carefully mapped the passage in GPS waypoints a few years ago.
Even though our reservation is for 6:30, we head in to Giorgio's at 6:00 to sit on their deck and enjoy the sunset. The couple from the 322 is already seated at a table on the deck. They are obviously honeymooning.
When we get back to the boat, we find that
it has swung 90°. The rain squall had a wind shift, then very light wind. I sure hope the
anchor is set well enough to tolerate the swing. I had set the GPS earlier to use as an
anchor watch, so I look to see how we have moved and if we are outside our previous swing.
To my surprise, the GPS says "Satellite Reception Lost"! For the entire trip
thus far, it has continually tracked at least 10 satellites, and 12 much of the time.
Suddenly, when I need it, it has no satellites at all. Has my GPS (a Garmin eMap) crapped
out, is the DOD doing some of their GPS jamming tests, or is the GPS system shut down for
some other reason? Anyway, our position relative to the other boats and to the shoreline
has not changed significantly, so we go to bed. Monday, June 17 I can see a rain shower approaching, but it does not appear to be very threatening. The shower starts developing into a solid mass and the wind builds to a steady 20 and feels cool. We are sailing essentially dead downwind, just high enough to keep the winged-out jib full, and our speed is running about 8.5 knots through the water, 11 over the bottom. I decide that it is time to reef so I send Nancy to the mast. Before she has time to do anything, the wind has built to a solid 35 and I decide that we should drop the mainsail. The jib is still out and is going to take a lot of work to furl in this amount of wind, but my concern is in getting the main down. The main halyard, which I carefully tidied up when I raised the main, fouls in the wild wind on the foredeck and the main stops coming down just below the second reef. Fortunately, Nancy knows the "one hand for me, one hand for the boat" rule very well. Nancy is able to avoid the flailing jib sheets, but the sheets manage to get themselves wrapped with the fouled main halyard. This is a crummy situation: no leech tension on the main, so it is now flogging violently, and the jib cannot be furled because it's sheets are fouled. The wind is now up around 50 knots, gusting above 60, the seas have quickly grown to 10 to 15 feet, and everything is wild and loud. I am going to have to go up and clear the foredeck. I get both engines up to 2400 RPM to maintain steerage, get Nancy back into the cockpit, and go to the foredeck. The rain and spray are blowing so hard that it feels like bee stings when the drops hit me. It takes a few minutes, but I am able to untangle enough of the huge knot of braided line to get the main 90% down and the jib almost furled. In this wind the jib rolls very tightly, requiring more turns of the furler than normal. Unfortunately, the furling drum is not wound with enough spare turns, so that with this load, the jib will not furl beyond the last 3 feet or so. We head back downwind, making over 8 knots under diesel and the little bit of jib that is still exposed. The wind is still in the 50's. With the boat downwind and the apparent wind reduced, I am able to finally clear the foredeck and get the sails stowed. The knot log shows that we hit 11.2 through the water, and the GPS is showing 13.4 max over the bottom. The rain is so dense that we cannot see more than a hundred yards or so, and it still stings like hell. I am thankful that we chose to take outside route around the northern end of Camanoe and Guana Islands and that we have good sea room. I am also quite happy that the GPS system has come back to life.
We sail on to White Bay, where the next
adventure awaits. As we approach White Bay, I bring the boat up to about 120° apparent so
that we can furl the jib behind the main. Just as I start to ease the sheet and take up on
the furler, the jib collapses then hourglasses and quickly spins onto the forestay,
trapping both sheets under the wrap. The jib cannot unfurl because of the hourglass, and
the jib sheets are at the stop knots, loading the furler so that it cannot furl, and the
free portion of the jib above the hourglass wrap is flapping violently. Geez, what a
morning! I spin the boat up and, thankfully, the main drops cleanly and quickly. I untie
the stopknots in the end of the jib sheets, let them run, and furl the whole ugly mess. It
isn't pretty, but it isn't flapping any more. We motor back up to Great Harbor looking for
a spot with light wind to straighten this mess out. The wind is pretty far to the
southeast, and there are whitecaps throughout most of Great Harbor. I find a spot on the
very eastern edge where the wind is at least under 20 and we drop the anchor. In the
lighter wind, the jib unfurls all by itself and then refurls cleanly. Nancy raises the
anchor and we motor back over to White Bay. We have had enough sailing for the morning!
Shortly after we weigh anchor at White Bay, a second squall hits from out of nowhere. Once again, we have low visibility and high winds. We motor out through the reef, around the knuckleheads anchored right at the inside of the channel (why do they do that?), and head back to Great Harbor. After the day's events, I am feeling kind of knuckleheaded myself. We should have waited this one out at White Bay, but the squall was not even visible until after we had hoisted anchor and were underway. At least this one doesn't catch us under sail. Back at Great Harbor, we set the hook and go ashore to make reservations for dinner at Ali Baba's. We find that there has obviously been a clean-up campaign on Jost van Dyke. The Great Harbor beachfront is the cleanest that we have ever seen. The dilapidated shacks, one-time beach bars and junk that once lined the beachfront are gone; in their place is nice clean white sand. We shop a bit, but don't find anything that we think we need. We go back to the boat for painkillers. The GPS is back to tracking 10 to 12 birds. Last night must have been some sort of test. The GPS is great for monitoring anchor position. We are obviously holding tight here because we swing back and forth to within 3 feet of the same spot. After we finish off the trip's third gallon of painkillers, we decide that we need to relocate the boat. Someone has anchored too close for comfort. With the squally conditions, I think that they might swing into us. We move to our "outer" Great Harbor anchorage. Back ashore for dinner at Ali Baba's, the
power on the JVD beachfront is off and the only light at Ali Baba's are a few candles.
Nancy has shrimp which are unremarkable, and I have the worst tuna that I have ever had in
my life. It is covered with scales and is way overcooked. I never thought that tuna had
scales - at least not this large. Maybe it isn't even tuna, or maybe these scales came
from another fish that was being cleaned. The next time we have dinner in Great harbor, I
guess it will be at Foxy's. Since Monday night is not a Foxy's beach barbecue night, we
thought we would give Ali Baba's a shot. The last time we ate here it was fine. It looks
like Ali Baba's might be OK for ribs, which we had here before, but not much else. Maybe
the power being off made cleaning and cooking fish in the dark difficult. I don't know.
What I do know is this day could have been better. At least no one got hurt and, other
than our flags, nothing was broken. Back at the boat it is too wet for the tram,
so we play below for awhile. Tuesday, June 18
Dinner business at the Willy T looks to be slow also. As we dinked in to Pirates,
almost every boat that we passed had their grill lit. Since the Bight is a first-night
stop for many charterers, I imagine that the excitement of cooking on a boat for the first
time in the Caribbean must be pretty strong. Back on the boat tram after dinner, we spot
the Hubble Space Telesope which is clearly visible even though there are a few clouds
around and the first quarter moon is creating quite a bright sky. Aristocat's main halyard
slaps the mast loudly on every puff of wind that comes down the Bight, making the Bight
sound like a boatyard. After we go below, I look up and spot the ROSAT satellite through
our open hatch. Wednesday, June 19 Nancy makes us a ham and cheese omelet, using the last of our eggs. This, plus half of one of Deliverance's mega-brownies and I am stuffed. We slip the mooring at 8:00 and set sail for Manchioneel Bay on Cooper Island - dead to weather from the pass between Norman Island and Pelican Island. Behind Peter Island, the wind is only 15-20, so we go full hoist initially. As we clear Great Harbor on Peter, the wind and seas build so we shorten to the first reef on the mainsail. Before we get across the Sir Francis Drake Channel to our first tack just off Brandywine Bay, the wind freshens to near 30 and a squall is approaching, so we shorten again to double reef main and jib. Once again the boat is happy. We are going to weather at 7 knots, tacking through just over 90° with the GPS showing us making good about 110° over the ground from tack to tack. Cats are fast to weather if you let them breathe. We make Manchioneel Bay by 10:00 - almost 4 knots VMG in rough seas - not too shabby for a doggy 3800.
Nancy and I sit and talk with James for the next hour. He asks if we are on the cat with the Texas flag, and I tell him we are. He tells us that he watched sailing up the channel, that we were really flying along, and that sure was a clean fast tack we made just off of Salt Island. James asks Nancy if she has any Salt Island salt, and Nancy tells him that we do not. James hops up, runs inside his shop and comes back with a large ziploc bag of Salt Island salt which he gives as a gift to Nancy. James tells us all about the goings-on on Norman Island, Dr. Jarecki (James calls him "Docta Jerky"), Jarecki's political affiliation with the minority party, and how the minority party will likely take power in the next election thanks to Jarecki's influence and money. We are later to learn from others that Jarecki's "Conservation Agency" is not what it seems. James is keenly aware of how screwed up things get when big business/money gets its hand in government. James confirms that Jarecki owns Pirates and that he allows Elvet to operate it, but Elvet has no stake in it at all and can (will) be tossed out whenever Jarecki chooses. Jarecki is building a facility on Norman Island that, when complete, will outshadow the Bitter End, but will only cater to the ultra-high dollar mega-yachts and offer essentially nothing to the lowly charter fleet. Dr. Jarecki begins to remind me of Ian Fleming's Dr. No. We are getting thirsty, so I ask James if he wants a beer. He says no, but if I have Coca-Cola he would like some. We talk a few minutes more, then I take Nancy back to Texas Two Step and pack the soft cooler with Coca-Cola, Caribs, and ice and go back ashore to lime with James. When I get back in, James has changed his mind - he's ready for a beer. We talk a lot more, and I learn a lot more. We discussed the serious inbreeding on Jost van Dyke. Nancy and I have always wondered about some of the people there. James confirmed what we thought. James is quite an island philosopher, and a very quick thinker. He knows everyone in the islands that we know, and knows a lot of the behind-the-scenes stuff that is otherwise invisible. James knows details about everyone and everything - he is truly the coconut telegraph, better than any newspaper. When we finish the Caribs that I brought, James asks if I want more. I tell him yes, that I will run down to the bar a get us more. He insists on going himself because "I get a discount". He quickly returns with about 10 more beers and a bag of ice, which he puts into a cooler. James really appears to be a happy fellow with damned few worries. He loves living on Cooper Island. His family owns land at Coral Bay on the other side of Cooper Island, and they are fishermen. We lime away a good part of the afternoon. James is amazing at reading people. A younger guy wanders up and, hesitatingly, asks "Where are you from?". James quickly replies "From heh, but ya really wan ta ax me sometin else sa jes get right ta da pint." The kid is obviously taken aback, and makes small talk for the next several minutes before finally asking "Do you know where I can get some, you know.... some weed?" James knew that this was coming from the moment the kid walked up. He replied "Na heh mon. Ya ha ta try a nex ilan". Later, another man walks up and, before he says a word, James asks him if is looking for cigars. The man, surprised, replies "No, well, sort of..., yes". James tells him that he has cohibas for $10, and the man buys one. The young guy is fascinated by the exchange, and James walks back into his shop and brings him a cohiba for free. He knows that it will amusing watching the kid smoke the cigar. We spend another hour talking with each other and the kid. James is 26, dropped out of school in the seventh grade, and says that he is "self-educated". The kid is 21 years old and is a law student. The two are light years apart in world experience. Give me James rather than the kid anytime things get tough. I like this guy. By 3:00 PM all of the mooring balls are taken and we amuse ourselves watching the late-comers circle like sharks outside waiting for something to free up. A couple of boats do leave their moorings, and the sharks sprint for the free ball. Nan calls on the FRS radio and wants me to come snorkel. She has been snorkeling around the rocks at the north end of the bay and has seen a large school of squid. I invite James to have dinner with us at the Beach Club and dink back to the boat.
James joins us for dinner and is, to say the
least, entertaining. By now he is really wound up. James has the rosemary pork chops, I
have chicken roti, and Nancy have snapper, and we have a couple of bottles of Penfold's
chardonnay. Dinner at Cooper is always good. The only disappointment was that they were
out of their signature flan dessert. After the second bottle of wine, it didn't really
matter. Thursday, June 20 I dink ashore for the drop-off and pickup and am surprised to find Jeremy up when I get there. After the quick trip, we motor out of Trellis at 8:30 and set a single reef again for the run down to Road Harbor. Good wind and nice waves get Texas Two Step up into the high 9's. We are tied up alongside the Moorings dock by 10:00. At the dock, I check our fresh water tanks and find that we still have about 25 gallons. We made it for two weeks without having to take on any water. We stowed the fenders when we sailed two weeks ago and did not have to get them back out until now. I calculate that between the two of us, we used a little over 12 gallons per day from the tank. We wind up not needing the two gallons of fresh water we bought last Sunday at Buck's, but we are out of Carib. We have to buy another six-pack to help us unload the boat. We have our gear off the boat by 11:00, but have to wait until nearly noon for a room at the Mariner Inn. That's why we have our soft cooler packed with ice and these just-bought Caribs. After we get our room, we shower, call Brandywine Bay for dinner reservations, and walk into Roadtown. Nancy finds a beautiful Jam's World dress at the Sea Urchin Shop and I find a new Jam's shirt. We walk over to the other Sea Urchin Shop next to Pusser's, and Nancy finds the T-shirt that she has been looking for. Then we do Pusser's, Latitude 18, and Sunny Caribbee. At Sunny Caribbee we refresh our nutmeg supply and buy a good supply of soaps. Finally, we walk back to the Mariner Inn, where we sit out on the seawall under the seagrapes and finish the last of the fourth gallon of painkillers.
Nancy has French onion soup, which is quite
different from the standard pot of soup with a piece of bread and melted cheese. Nancy
says that it is the best French onion soup that she has ever had. I have ravioli, which is
also good, but that soup really shines. Nancy has Davide's tagliata, which is a seriously
good steak with shiitake mushrooms. I have the duck with cherry sauce. Tonight's wine is a
Penfold's "Old Vines" Shiraz/Grenache/Mourvedre, which is excellent with the
tagliata and duck. My dessert is a panna cotta, which is a flan-like custard with a
raspberry sauce and Nancy has Davide's lemon tart. Both are, not surprisingly, excellent. Friday, June 21 We check out of the Mariner Inn at 9:30 and ride to the airport with Franklyn, who manages to pack 18 people and an incredible amount of luggage (including my windsurfing gear) into his open-air taxi. The woman sitting behind me gripes all the way to the airport about all of the luggage packed around. Apparently, she forgot to leave her bitchy attitude behind when she came on vacation. I bet her husband has had a really long week. It takes over an hour to get through check-in at the Beef Island airport. By the time we are checked in, the flight to San Juan is boarding. We did not get a chance to walk over to Trellis Bay as we had hoped. I hurriedly take Nancy down to the Clair Aero office and show her the printout from our website on their wall with "Nancy and Walker's Scrapbook" at the bottom. The fellow in the office is amused that we are the Nancy and Walker. The flight to San Juan and entry through customs and immigration is completely uneventful. We have time to kill and there is no Carib in the San Juan airport, so Heineken has to suffice. I get comments all day long, from the Moorings through the Beef Island airport, and in San Juan about my "Caribbean Cowboy" shirt with the jolly roger. In Miami, we have to walk forever to get from our arrival gate in Concourse E to our gate in Concourse B for the flight back to IAH. The path is through a circuitous maze in the new construction, and is much longer than it would be to just go to the main terminal and cut across from E to B. However, this would require us to exit the secure area and reenter. When we finally reach Concourse B, we find that we have to exit the secure area anyway to take the tram out to the satellite gate from which we are departing. As we board, I am carrying the Nathan's hotdogs that I just bought for our dinner and Nancy is carrying all of our carry-ons, which are loaded with stuff. Of course, she is once again selected for the random passenger search. We get back into Houston George Bush
Intercontinental right on time at 9:00PM. Nancy goes and gets the van from the parking lot
while I round up our baggage. Everything that we checked makes it back, and we are at home
in Clear Lake City at 10:45. There is a pile of mail waiting, but we are still on
vacation. Saturday, June 22
Epilogue: Nancy and I enjoy sailing the BVI with other people aboard, and normally carry others on about half of our trips. It is fun and rewarding taking others and seeing them experience the islands for the first time. This year, with just the two of us aboard, we were able to linger where we wanted, and did not have to take anyone to the must-see stops for first-timers. Having only two people aboard the roomy 3800 was absolutely luxurious. We slept in the forward port cabin, used the aft port cabin for our closet, and seldom went into the forward starboard cabin. The eight days at Anegada gave us time to explore, enjoy, and really relax. I think Lowell owes me an Anegada Reef Hotel staff shirt. Bell does make the best conch fritters. Lauren told us the secret to them (I'm not telling), and we are working at home on getting them just right. The development on Anegada is disturbing. Quite a bit of it is by outsiders, or at least non-residents. I wish there was a way to prevent this, but I am sure that there isn't. I am concerned about what will happen when the Anegada land ownership issue is settled and the non-residents who wind up with clear title begin to sell off their land to outsiders. My favorite soap was Lowell's Anegada Sand Soap, but he has been out of it for over a year and most likely will never make soap again. I liked the feeling of the sand and the smell. Most of all, I liked touching a bit of Anegada every morning. The sand soap from Sunny Caribbee is wonderful, and is a good replacement. Our frangipani cuttings seem to have made it. They are hardy plants, and a couple of them have already produced new flowers since we rooted them a little over a week ago. We normally use sea salt for fine flavoring, and are now using Salt Island salt that James gave us. Nancy spread it on a cookie sheet and gently dried it in the oven. It compares very favorably with the French "Fleur de Sel" that we normally use, and has a slightly finer, more consistent texture. We did have to pick some shell fragments from it, though. Never argue with an airline gate agent. They are in control and they know it. In fact, they will be more than happy to demonstrate to you just how much in control they are. After 14 days on Texas Two Step, it took a couple of days for the to-and-fro swaying in the shower at home to stop. We wish it hadn't stopped. Writing a daily journal was very rewarding. I normally did most of my writing in the mornings while I enjoyed my coffee in the new day's sunlight and fresh breeze. It gave me a chance to reflect in detail on the previous day before charging out on the new day. I wound up with 40 hand-written pages. Transcribing the journal to this page has taken a lot more time than I thought it would, but it has been a lot like enjoying those days all over again. Furthermore, Nancy and I will be able to read this over and over again and relive those days. In some ways, the words are better than pictures. I wish I had kept a journal on our eleven previous trips. Nancy is not letting me forget about the shoe incident. Next year's dinghy will likely be chrisyened "Rusty Sandals". Footnote (July 13, 2002) Footnote
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