Here’s the full video – a little Jim Jarmusch-y, but you get the idea. Might not be safe for work. Can’t really remember.
The close of the tour.
We’ve got only a few cycles left before we catch the taxi back to the airport, our boat safely in harbor, stalwart against the building dark of the next cold front. To the BVI, a cold front means a drop in winds, rain showers that would be described by most as “a pleasant distraction”, and a decrease in temperature of about a degree. That’s a fahrenheit degree.
In fact, it’s been stuffier today than any other day since we started our trip – the recycled chill of a 757 cabin in flight actually sounds agreeable. I’ve gone crazy, I know.
We spent the last two days making our way back to base – sort of. No trip is complete without a stopover at Soper’s Hole and the gift shops that dot the eastern quay. We got a few odds and ends for Christmas, then fired up the grill to cook the last meal on the boat. The next day, the swell was building again, and our final run back to Road Town was reminiscent of the first day, when our legs still had learning to do about the pitch and roll of the sea.
We’re tied up at Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbor now, with two full days left to enjoy the rapidly-calming weather. Though it costs a little more, a slip at a marina affords the luxuries of power outlets, air conditioning, WiFi, showers, and a significant reduction in that terrible feeling that your boat is going to swing right off its buoy in the middle of the night and bury nose-first in a nearby reef.
The downside is that – at least here in the BVI – these slips are a royal bitch to get into. I’ve already scratched the paint, bonked her nose, and knocked a navigation light cover loose trying to back this boat into a twelve-foot slip in crosswinds. In Tacoma, it’s no trouble. Here – well, it’s humbling; Alicia has kept my spirits up and has always been there to throw lines and re-rig as necessary to get us to safety. She’s a natural at this.
We’ve still been motoring – at this point, sailing her just feels like too damned much work. This is supposed to be a vacation. We’ve done nearly everything else, including cooking our first dinner aboard tonight – baked some-kinda-white-fish with garlic bread and rum carrots. It’s the cap on a heck of a day – they went from red-flag to yellow-flag at The Baths today, which means we were allowed to come ashore, swimming nearly a mile today to-and-from the boat and ashore.