13 to 21 March 2024

Marigot Bay, Saint Martin to Prickly Pear Island, Virgin Gorda, BVIs, 18° 30′ 35″ N, 64° 22′ 35″ W, 79nm, 14 hours

to Spanish Town, 18° 27′ 32″ N, 64° 26′ 45″ W, 7nm, 1 hour 30 minutes

to Great Harbour, Peter Island,18° 21′ 38″ N, 64° 34′ 85″W, 8nm, 2 hours

to Diamond Cay, Jost Van Dyke, 18° 26′ 68″ N, 64° 43′ 48″ W, 9nm, 2 hours

We got up at the crack of dawn to leave for the British Virgin Islands but Innamorata II had already got themselves into the lead.

In the light winds they were soon sailing on their cruising chute and, coming down the starboard side of us, Hahalua were giving chase under their pretty parasailor. It was time for us to deploy our cruising chute which had remained in its bag since leaving Europe.

Stefan winched it up and we had it flying in next to no time. We’ve got setting up the lines down to a fine art now. We were having a beautiful sail, slow but steady on flat calm sea.

Then just as I was below on my off watch, disaster!

The dyneema line attaching the sail to the furler incomprehensibly snapped and the enormous sail flapped uncontrollably. The loud crack of the line breaking and Stefan’s yell for help had me up on deck in no time. While Stefan lowered the halyard at the mast I tried my hardest to wrestle the fabric into the cockpit (a technique we had practiced under rather more controlled conditions!) But now the wind was too strong for me and it all escaped my grip. Concerned I might get taken off with it at the next attempt, Stefan decided he should do the wrestling so we swapped positions.

Eventually all of the sail and its furler were unceremoniously dumped down the companionway in disgrace and consigned to the forward cabin for sorting out later. In the light winds we had to resort to the engine again.

On our way we passed a yacht transport ship going the other way. It had been just three weeks since we sat in Dominica very seriously considering putting Pintail on a ship back to Europe. We had resolved to continue with our plan to get to the States and to take the rough with the smooth through the Caribbean and, to be fair, things had definitely improved since then. We didn’t have the highest expectations for the British Virgin Islands or the Bahamas but we were ready to be wrong about them.

And it turns out we were very wrong about the BVIs!

We arrived in this large cluster of islands at dusk. We passed close to Richard Branson’s Necker Island where we had hoped to anchor for the night. However, Innamorata II had already called us on the VHF to say conditions weren’t right and they were continuing to the anchorage off Virgin Gorda, one of the BVIs four main islands. So we waved to Mr Branson and his luxury resort and carried on round the corner.

We finally caught up with Innamorta II and Hahalua in the shelter of Prickly Pear Island, off Virgin Gorda, just as the sun set. Instantly the landscape seemed very different from elsewhere in the Caribbean and instantly it recalled the rocky islands covered in low scrub of Greece and Turkey. The number of masts in this anchorage suggested that this was not going to be the quietest cruising ground.

There were literally hundreds of boats in the anchorage and we knew that the BVIs are a very popular place to charter a yacht. That day they all seemed to be out on the water. Getting out of the narrow channel between the reefs in the morning was like feeding onto the motorway. We needed eyes everywhere.

After a short stop in Virgin Gorda’s main town of Spanish Town to check in to this British Overseas Territory and having not spotted famous resident, Morgan Freeman, we followed Carol and Steve to some of their favourite spots away, they promised, from the crowds.

First we sailed right passed another of the BVIs top attractions, the Baths. Usually a magnet for visitors, the conditions weren’t right for anchoring so we got an uninterrupted view of the famous giant boulders that have littered the shore since the molten lava met the sea millions of years ago.

We continued close by the tiny, uninhabited islands of Fallen Jerusalem, Round Rock and Ginger Island.

We found Innamorata II and Hahalua in the small anchorage area in Hallovers Bay on Cooper Island but space was limited amongst the coral reefs and we couldn’t squeeze ourselves in so we continued on to Salt Island next door.

Salt Island is named after the large salt lake it is home to. We anchored optimistically hoping to take a walk around it but dark clouds were gathering and an undeniable swell was creeping in so we decided to move on to Peter Island next door where there would be better protection from the swell and the coming weather. We also couldn’t miss a stop at the namesake island of my Dad and our shore administrator extraordinaire!

In Great Harbour, not only did we find protection but also a wonderfully tranquil spot where the only sound was birdsong and the unmistakeable call of goats. (Put your volume right up!) With the mountainous landscape in all directions it really did feel like we were back in Turkey!

With so many anchorage options for all weather conditions and to hide away from the crowds, this was the kind of cruising ground we had dreamed of.

We spent a lovely few days in Great Harbour with views across to Tortola and beyond. We left briefly to pop over for some groceries and boat bits in busy Road Harbour on Tortola opposite but mostly we just enjoyed the view above and below the water. We got our snorkels out and spent our afternoons looking at the reefs around the bay.

One afternoon we spotted we had company in the bay. A few dolphins were playing around the boat. I got in the water when they seemed a good distance away but whilst snorkeling suddenly heard an unmistakable call and was able to snap this photo of two of them swimming alongside me. It was an incredible moment to be so close to them.

We were treated to some spectacular sunsets from Great Harbour. One night we even had the pleasure of the company of Eric Clapton, or at least his boat, Blue Guitar, as the sun went down.

Eventually we dragged ourselves and Pintail’s anchor out of Great Harbour and moved on to Jost Van Dyke, an island to the north west of the BVIs and from where we could check out and make our next jump to Puerto Rico. We settled in Diamond Cay where lots of charter boats came and went on the very expensive buoys but tucked in a quiet corner we enjoyed relative isolation at anchor, for free!

We took an early morning dinghy ride out to the tiny sand island with two palm trees. We had hoped to land on it but it was surrounded by coral and rocks making it difficult to get to the beach so instead we headed to the dinghy dock at Foxy’s restaurant and went for the short hike to Bubbly Pool.

Even this short walk was welcome after so little shore time. A helpful piece of public art reminded us where we were. We had to wade across some water and along a beach where, in the very shallow water, we saw our first shark.

A friendly dog adopted us and led us all the way, reminding us of the dog that showed us around the Roman ruins at Selinute in Sicily. Strictly we didn’t need her as there was helpful signage all along the way!

When we arrived at Bubbly Pool the signage was not quite so friendly.

The health and safety warnings were barely needed as, after the couple of days of calm weather , the pool was not very bubbly at all! We could, however, imagine that when the swell was up the waves could indeed turn it into a natural Jacuzzi.

Later we returned to shore for a sundowner at the famous Foxy’s but, apart from the gathering staff, at 5pm we were alone in the bar, alone that is except for the tiny biting insects we now know as ‘no see ‘ums’. We had heard people talk about these pests and thought they were using some sort of Latin name but it turns out the name is somewhat more descriptive of the fact that they are almost invisible. I’d had a good shower before going out and lathered myself in lotion which seemed to act as some kind of repellent but Stefan was being eaten alive so we returned to the safety of Pintail.

It was clear from Foxy’s appearance that rebuilding that rebuilding these islands after Hurricane Irma was, even four years later, still a constant work in progress. A ferry arrived in the anchorage to unload with two cement lorries. We had already watched countless such lorries drive around the road that curved along the hillside behind us. In Road Harbour we had bought a book by a local author who is also Climate Change Officer of the BVIs which told the individual survival stories of people living here. Those stories gave us an even greater insight into the terror brought by the changing climate on such a small island nation. Every hurricane seems more powerful than the last.

Horror stories of wind and waves aside, we were starting to like the BVIs a lot. There was really nothing much British here – the accents and the currency are all American. Not a red telephone box in sight. But despite a loaf of bread costing US$6 and a cauliflower US$10, we felt safe there with all the options if the weather turned. However, we also knew that we definitely didn’t want to be anywhere near there for hurricane season. Time was ticking so we needed to think about moving on.

We could check out of the BVIs at Great Harbour on Jost Van Dyke just around the corner from our anchorage. We imagined something like a little town alongside the ferry terminal, hoping we could get some groceries as well as our stamp out of the BVIs so we took the dinghy round to do the formalities.

We landed at a dinghy dock beside the small ferry terminal and were immediately greeted by a woman with a small shop/café. She didn’t have anything we really needed on her half bare shelves but we bought a homemade empenada each and a can of drink and sat beside the water, petting the local cat.

Customs and immigration were efficient but serious and afterwards we went for a short walk around the bay to see whether there was more of a metropolis. On the sand road we found only a few bars and a tiny grocery shop which, surprisingly, sold McVitie’s Ginger Nuts amongst its very limited and expensive range. We also found a dive shop. It didn’t sell the marker float we needed for our snorkelling adventures but I did pick up a new T-shirt and cap. This place was as sleepy as its cats!

When we returned to the dinghy it was being guarded by enormous tarpon. These huge fish can grow to 8 feet long and seem remarkably unfazed by human contact.

These islands might not have been remotely British in anything other than name but they were definitely somewhere we could have hung out in for a long while longer. However, we also had the best reason for leaving, on a Spanish Virgin Island not very far away…