Mods and improvements in St Martin

Since we left Grenada on our “multiple passage shakedown sail” we have had St Martin in mind as the place to visit to stock up on parts and services. When you see the price comparison between the duty free St Martin (Dutch) vs the other islands, it wins hands down and makes it worth the trip. In actual fact St Martin is a very pretty island with a lot going for it other than just marine services.

The “to do” list is an ever changing beast with one ticked off and another added almost at the same time. One never does all the chores but constantly re-prioritise the list to ensure that we stay ahead in the maintenance part. We have also been tweaking the boat to suit our purposes and preferences.

So, what did we get done while we were here?

1. Main element was to fix the oven. Sally has been amazing at cooking / baking with just a stove top over the last 3 months, so it was my turn to get her a proper working oven.
2. Replaced the halyards. In an ideal world I would have replaced all the running rigging, but we took a pragmatic view of our current sheets, halyards etc and decided on the major items. We replaced all the halyards and lazy jacks. We now have a couple of good strong spare lines (as although the outer covering of the halyards were a bit manky, the cores were all in great shape.
3. Manual bilge pump was repaired
4. Manual salt and fresh water in the galley. No more washing dishes in a bucket in the cockpit for us! We are fresh water misers and try make a tank last as long as possible. Hauling water in jerry cans is not ideal and neither is having to come along side to fill up. Not to mention the cost of water on most of these islands can make your eyes water especially when you consider it falls out the sky for free a lot of the time.
5. Guardrails – were replaced with Dyneema.
6. Our No 3 genoa had a few repairs done to the luff.
7. We bought a number of spare parts and tools to ensure that we had a better selection of gear on board for repairs and maintenance. Did you know that a little rubber impeller for the salt water cooling pump on the engine can cost you $90. Not to mention all the fuel and oil filters, oil etc There are a good few thousand dollars of spares on board this boat that I hope I never have to use.
8. Also with boat and parts from different places I have learnt that having both metric and imperial tool sets is a good idea.
9. While we were here, we also serviced the winches. All in amazingly good condition considering the age of the boat.
10. One of my most luxurious investments was a Penn rod and reel. My father had (still has?) the exact same Penn Senator reel when we first went sailing 25 years ago. If they are still making them exactly the same after all these years they must be pretty good. We are looking forward to landing some good fish on it!

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   Manual fresh and salt in the galley

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   New running rigging and guardrails

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My Hair

Thanks Nu Nu and Laani for allowing me to vent constantly about my hair dilemmas!!

I have always been obsessed with my hair. Having fine, thin hair all my life means if I make a mistake, it takes forever to grow out and I don't have enough hair to cover it up. As long as I can remember I have been dying it blonde/brown/black/purple and no longer know what my natural colour is - if I go by my eyebrows then I guess I am dark blonde.

Prior to leaving the UK to go sailing I was dying my hair myself every 4 weeks, washing it every day and blow drying it straight every morning. All these activities meant my hair was split, dry and crying out for some TLC despite the expensive products I put on my head. With the upcoming sailing adventure I figured I needed a style and colour that was easy to maintain and didn't mind salt, sea and sand in excess.

So I took my blonde locks (see my passport photo to the left) to the hairdressers for them to dye. As hairdressers in London are so expensive, especially for a dye, I got a groupon voucher and went to a salon I had never been to before but it had good reviews – big mistake. I sat in the chair and told the hairdresser that I wanted my hair dyed dark blonde, like I presumed my natural colour would be. She fussed over the state of my hair , tutting at the broken strands and set to work removing the bleach. As the hours ticked by, I grew more and more concerned. My hair had gone from platinum blonde to dark dark brown. She assured me that it would turn out dark blonde and so I relaxed a little and told myself it would go lighter when washed. Well it didn't, not even close. I came out of the hairdresser looking like Mortisha Adams. Of course typical Brit that I am, I didn't tell the hairdresser that I was horrified with the result, I just faked a smile and got out of there quickly ringing Mum and moaning at how awful I looked.

Back home I washed my hair multiple times hoping it would lighten but no luck, the colour stuck. I could have gone and dyed it again by myself but I figured my hair did feel a lot healthier and when in the Caribbean, the sun could turn it back to a dark blonde without the artificial intervention.

Packing to go to the Caribbean via Canada I was deciding what toiletries to take with me. Only having one duffel bag each, I had to be brutal with the contents so I opted just to take my Moroccan Oil and an Aussie leave in conditioner. The Moroccan Oil was recommended by multiple friends who like me, dye and manipulate their hair way too much. Although expensive, it goes a long way and is actually amazing for anyone with hair like mine. My hair (often like straw) turns into silky, glossy locks with only a tiny drop of this stuff (thanks NiCola for the heads up on that one!).

Once I got to the Caribbean, my hair did go lighter in the sun, but rather than going blonde it started to turn ginger – horror of horrors!! Fed up of shocking myself every time I looked in the mirror, I hunted down what seemed to be the only box of blonde hair dye in Grenada and whilst we were still staying in an apartment prior to moving aboard Orion, I took advantage of the bathroom and gave in, dying my hair. Unfortunately the only blonde dye I could find was a dark blonde shade but better than nothing, it definitely lightened my hair but I still wasn't satisfied.

And then 3 months went by... Now during these 3 months I had hunted on every island for more blonde hair dye but had no joy. The only hope was that the further north we were going, the lighter the shades of hair dye were getting. I was hopeful that by the time we got to St Martin, I would get my hands on this most sought after item. Poor Dylan was dragged around drug store after drug store looking for this stuff and only being met with black afro products whilst being schooled on exactly what shades I was after. Nothing with 'warm' in the title as that equals ginger on my hair and only things with 'ash' in the title as that kept the tones 'cool'. Thinking I was a total nutter at first, he soon realised how serious I was and started getting just as involved in my mission exhaling loudly when we discovered the minimal range of stock time after time.

By the time I got to St Martin, I had got my hair trimmed by Laani (thanks again!) which had tamed the straw but I had 2 inch dark roots. On our way back from ACE megastore we saw a sign for a big beauty place. Getting off the bus I walked into the store and came face to face with a whole aisle of dyes to choose from, Heaven! So I walk up and down hugging all the boxes that could be a decent shade...shunning anything that says warm and choosing anything that says 'light ash'. After much uhming and aahing and confering with Dylan (so I can blame him if it goes wrong) I chose one and took it back to the boat.

Now dying hair as you know uses a lot of water...a substance that is scarce on board a boat so I agree with Dylan that I shall wait until it rains before I stink the boat out with ammonia. As luck would have it, that night it rains really hard and I collect buckets, pots and pans full of water to wash my hair in. So this morning I don the bikini, get in the cockpit complete with full length mirror propped up and a gnome stool and get to work. The ammonia stinging my eyes, I part my hair and massage the dye right into my roots – Dylan at this point has made himself scarce. Time up I get Dylan to pour the buckets over my head (he was found hanging over the bow looking at the anchor chain – the extremes he will go to to get out of the fumes!) when I look in the mirror I see that wet, my hair looks WHITE. Dry it doesn't really change colour. Quite a surprise in fact as the colour looks nothing like it did on the box and I am one shade away from looking albino. Hey ho, good job anything goes in the cruising community and on the upside I have no roots and Dylan says I look like Storm from X-Men!!

Our First Night Passage

Until Barbuda we were yet to do a night passage on Orion. The whole point of us coming to the Caribbean and buying a boat was so I could be introduced to cruising gently, no rough weather and no long passages thank you very much! The rough weather was encountered on our second ever journey and I had put off the night passage until we had no other choice. So we were in Barbuda and wanting to get to St Martin as soon as possible to start ticking off some of our task list that had been building since leaving Grenada in January. With hurricane season in the back of my mind and no real desire to go hang out with the 'it' crowd in St Barts (that would be a long day sail), I gave in and started championing the idea of our first night passage together. I stress the word 'together' as this was a brand new experience for me but Dylan had done them tons of times before.

Sure on my day skipper course last summer myself and 3 others had done a night entry into a port but that wasn't the same as sailing between islands, taking a watch by myself and taking control of the boat whilst Dylan slept below. The more we spoke about it, the more I was looking forward to another new experience where I would be totally out of my comfort zone.

Working on a 5 knot average and a 90 mile journey we figured we didn't need to leave Barbuda until 5pm. By the time we reached our first land mass (St Barts) the sun would be rising and we would be able to see for the rest of the journey.

That morning, Dylan jumped out of bed early, very excitable and got to work on putting the jack lines in. For those of you who don't know (and I certainly didn't until a few weeks ago) these are long seatbelt material straps that run from the bow to the stern. They are used particularly on night passages to clip your safety line on to when having to go on deck so if you did stumble and go to fall overboard, you couldn't as the jack line would keep you on the right side of the guardrail. The safety line is also a seatbelt material strap that is hooked to your lifejacket. And yes parents, of course we wear these at all times!

I took a more leisurely morning reading then set about planning our passage on the charts. Figuring this was a good a time as ever to learn how to use the GPS properly, I read the manual and set about programming in various waypoints so we could follow a route considering there were no islands to navigate by. I usually manually plug in waypoints on a paper chart but with navigating in the dark, a lit up display would be much more effective. Sourcing the torches and head light I found a red bulb to use so it wouldn't detract ruin our night vision. We also have this option in the head (toilet) when getting up in the middle of the night.

As I like having 'clutter' around the boat (Ok so Dylan calls it clutter but I call it homely possessions) it is always my job to stow it away when preparing for a sail. The baskets, shells, beads, wooden carvings and cushions all go away in lockers so when we are rocking at sea, there shouldn't be any damage or anything flying about. I say shouldn't as inevitably every time we have been sailing so far there is always something that manages to find its way onto the floor.

Wanting to ensure we had food already prepared if we got the munchies I boiled 4 eggs, made tuna mayo sandwiches and put aside some Munch bars (peanut brittle) just in case. As it turned out I didn't touch them but Dylan made a substantial dent in the provisions, the cold (now cooked) eggs going down a treat.

At 5pm on the dot we upped anchor and using the setting sun in front of us, navigated our way out of the reefs and into the open ocean. Setting Orion up on a port tack and a bearing of 300 degrees I hoped that we wouldn't need to change anything once the sun set. With little light left, Dylan started his lesson on how to take a watch. It seemed quite simple, just meercat every 5 mins at what was going on around you. Look for any lights in the distance, any change in direction, any change in wind speed and any change in wind direction and then he was off down below for a 45 min snooze, leaving me fully in charge...eeeeek! So I got a big cushion out to make myself comfy and sat in the dark listening to the waves slapping the sides and straining my eyes for any lights on the horizon.

After 10 minutes I was bored. I had noone to talk to, I couldn't read, I was getting tired, it had started to drizzle and I had another 10 hours ahead of me before the sun came up. Confirming pretty quickly that I couldn't continue like that, I wacked out the iPod and started singing away to my disney soundtracks, stopping after every song to check the GPS, compass and horizon. I must have entertained the fishies that night with my rendition of 'Just around the river bend' and 'A Whole New World'. 45 mins later much to my annoyance (I was just getting into my singing session), Dylan appeared claiming he couldn't sleep and he wanted to relieve me of my watch already so I could go and get some sleep. Now I must confirm at this stage that it had nothing to do with my singing abilities...its just our boat is very musical. She bangs, clangs, jiggles, shakes, groans, creeks, putters and clinks all the time. However normally in the v berth this is just a minor background noise but sleeping in the sea berth (on the seats in our saloon) you are right in the middle of the Orion symphony.

Note from Dylan – he reckons not all the animal kingdom were entirely satisfied with my vocal abilities as one little flying fish decided to commit suicide on our boat!

Never having a problem falling asleep wherever I am, I went below to have a 3 hour nap. Arranging myself on the narrow settee I threw a sheet over me and closed my eyes trying to block out the loud noises coming from the mast and companionway. No luck, even I couldn't sleep so instead I dozed on and off until 11pm when Dylan woke me up and we swapped places.

With running down wind Orion was rocking from side to side and after a couple of hours I threw up over the side. Having had callaloo soup (spinach) the night before, it was disgusting. Luckily though it only interrupted 20 seconds or so of 'Bare Necessities' and I thought nothing of it. Until I threw up again half an hour later, this time the contents of my stomach didn't agree with my throat and it burned my voicebox rendering my voice to a whisper, feeling like a thousand needles were poking me. I remained with that pain for 3 days after, feeling like I had just got my tonsils removed, barely able to swallow a glass of milk never mind a sandwich! Unlike some seasickness mine seems to disappear as soon as I am sick so it doesn't limit my ability to take a watch, just takes my eye off the ball for the seconds I need to feed the fish.

Anyway enough about my vomit and more about our watch system. We had talked about how many hours we would do per watch beforehand and settled on 3. We started at 8pm so Dylan did 8pm – 11, 2am – 5 and I would do 11pm – 2 and then 5am – 8. Although I never really took the 5am – 8 as a watch as we were at our destination by 6am! A combination of strong and consistent winds (gusting 25 kts) meant we averaged 6.5 knots cutting our passage time down.

By 8am we were at anchor and back in our bed for a well deserved rest before we went to check in and stuff ourselves with french food. Not only have we now completed our first night passage (ok and it was no big deal I admit it and a word to sum it up - uneventful) we have also topped our 500 mile mark – total professionals now!!

Beautiful Barbuda

From 5 miles offshore, Barbuda looks like a yellow sliver on the horizon, looking at our depth gauge we can see it is quickly shoaling. With over 200 shipwrecks in the reef infested waters, I go up to the bow and direct Dylan into the anchorage, weaving in and out of the reef coloured areas.

Even once anchored Barbuda is still a yellow /pink (due to the coral) sliver set in turquoise waters, a low lying island with the highest point being a mere 125ft, you can easily see how back in the day, many a ship ran aground here. There are only 2000 people living in Barbuda with most of them clustered around the capital, the village of Codrington. When entering Barbuda, we chose to anchor first in Cocoa Point and when we arrived we were happy with our decision, a huge bay there were only 3 other boats sharing it with us. As Dylan did his usual routine of bedding the anchor, I watched Teddy the Turtle eying us up from a distance, taking a break from the reed bed he was much more curious to see what us humans were up to. The biggest turtle I have seen so far I bet he could tell a tale or two.

The Barbudan people were originally imported as slaves and worked for the Codrington family. Everywhere you see on the map of Barbuda seems to be named Codrington. Codrington lagoon, Codrington bank, Codrington farm. Since the days of slavery, the land has been held communally and keeping control of the island in this manner means land cannot be sold to foreigners. Thats what we like so much about this place, it is yet to join the 21^st century and shows no sign of wanting to. Our guide told us a story of a hotel being built by the Antiguan government. Fearing irreversible damage to the local wildlife and surrounding land the locals pushed the mobile construction offices off the cliff! Most locals here seem to make a living out of selling sand or catching fish, no desire to cater for tourists or 21^st century services.

Our first anchorage was off the K-Club where apparently Princess Diana used to come and stay. Well if its good enough for a princess....! The hotel has since closed down but the beach is pretty amazing, very very fine white /pink sand littered with small shells. Not a soul on the beach as far as we can see and the turquoise waves crashing at our feet, Dylan and I felt like we were on a deserted island.

There are no amenities ashore so our first few days were spent snorkelling on the nearby reefs where we saw loads of bright corals, an eagle ray and shoals of colourful fish then at night we would cook and play dominos – the Caribbean game of choice.

Keen to check out the west coast of the island and get close to the capital to clear out, we sailed around to Low Bay. Another quiet anchorage we were sharing this space with 2 other boats and at times it was just us there. We met an American couple on Ile de Grace who invited us around for a fish dinner (pieces of a 7ft sailfish they had caught!). These guys are just completing a 2 year circumnavigation and we all went on a tour the following day.

No dinghy docks in Barbuda, we beached the dinghy and dragged the monster up the sand bank so there was no way it would be floating out to sea by the time we got back. Meeting our tour guide, George Jeffrey, we were off to see the Frigate Bird Colony. Now his boat was built to navigate the 2 mile lagoon from our side of the sand bank over to the colony. His boat (complete with 40HP) motored across Codrington Lagoon to Codrington village. With the wind up, the lagoon was really choppy so we all got 'dinghy ass' – a new term I have learnt that describes the wet bum you constantly have when getting out of a dinghy. Park fee paid George then took us to the colony telling us the history along the way. The frigate mating season is in September and that is when the males puff out their necks like big red balloons trying to attract the females with their neck and a dance. Unfortunately we were too early for that but we still got to see them in their natural habitat and in their thousands. At 3 pounds in weight and a wing span of up to 6 ft, they have the greatest wing span in proportion to their weight. Makes for an entertaining spectacle, watching these birds trying to land in the trees in a most ungainly manner, flopping about like jellyfish, head butting the trees. The mangroves are full of the heads of frigates, all clucking away waiting to be fed. Although the chicks are very cute these looks can be deceiving as frigates are thieves. As they cannot land in the sea (due to weight: wing proportion) they steal the fish from other birds that can! This colony has been featured in the National Geographic as it is one of the largest in the world apart from the Galapagos.

Back in Codrington we started the process of clearing out and thank god we had a guide with us! Walking to opposite sides of the village with no signs pointing us in the right direction, we had to walk back and forth locating people's houses that doubled as port authority /customs and immigration. Good job George was with us as we would have got very lost otherwise. We stopped for lunch at The Palm Beach restaurant where I had lobbie and Dylan had chicken. The most massive portion sizes you can imagine and the food was excellent.

About to commence on our first night passage we wanted to get an up to date weather forecast for the area. With no available internet, we noticed a locked wifi signal at the nearby Lighthouse Bay Resort. Figuring we would buy a drink then ask for the password we ordered 3 diet cokes and a beer. You will never guess how much it set us back...US$53!! The most expensive drink I have ever drank and we didn't even get a glass or ice! The staff were extremely rude and unwelcoming and after paying for our drinks we were informed that they couldn't give the password to 'outsiders'. To put it mildly, this place is not cruising friendly and you should avoid at all costs.

After such a lovely day of seeing some of the island we were greeted back at the boat with a horrible smell. On following our nose (or rather mine as Dylan claims he never smells anything bad but he notices in seconds if I have bread or cookies on the stove!) we discover the drain in the fridge had blocked and stagnant water was accumulating in the bottom mixed with rotting callaloo that had fallen out of their bag. Nothing like a boat chore to bring you back to reality. Orion had clearly missed us that day and wanted to show who was boss.  

Queens, fishermen and the Antigua Classic Regatta 2012

Now we are not talking about the mildly effeminate men that mince around with more facial products than Sally or salty seadogs that earn a living from the sea. I am talking about the oddly named topsails sails on a 143ft gaff rigged schooner that I had the pleasure of racing on in the Antigua Classic Regatta earlier this month.

Although not exactly an oldy in age terms (she was built in 1995) she is an old design with the masts and booms made of wood in the traditional way. As too were the blocks and I could have sworn one or two sheets were hemp. There was enough varnish work to keep the crew busy for most of the season without her even leaving the dock.

The Zuca et a Moana is the largest sailing yacht that I have ever sailed on. There was no roller furlers or push button winches. Everything was manual.

Before each tack, either the Queen or Fisherman had to be lowered and then as we tacked the opposite number would be raised...manually.

Racing as many of you will know, is all about long windward legs at the start and finish and plenty of tacking in between. Raising sails, unlike on Orion where I can pop the main up singlehanded, involves 8 to 10 people. Winches are not used for raising these bad boys. It involves one or two people “sweating” (pulling the halyard) while someone else keeps a hold of the line by tailing it. Friction is applied by running the halyard around a belaying pin (those wood pins that look like skinny ten pins that you see ropes attached to on the side of old wood sailing ships in movies like Pirates of the Caribbean etc). Generally two people work in tandem to sweat the sail up and it involves pulling the halyard down with all your body weight and then moving it towards the belaying pin so that the tailer can take up the slack.

Do this a good few times and the very next day you feel like you have been roughed up by Mike Tyson except you will still have your ears.

Half way though a tack one of the belaying pins used to secure the Queens aft halyard snapped with an almighty bang. The pin itself flicked all the way across the deck and overboard. We were hurtling along at 13 knots and had a large piece of canvas flogging in the wind 100 foot above us. A couple of quick orders from the first mate and we were lowering the remaining halyard and using the sheets to man handle the sail back on deck before it became a sizeable sea anchor.

With a 143ft of boat of which over 100ft was waterline length, needless to say she made some good speed. The consistent trade winds did not disappoint and 15 knots of breeze was more than sufficient to power her along at 13knots. The regatta staggers the start times as it would be a bit hairy for little sub 40ft yachts to be dicing a start line with 150ft behemoths. Needless to say our class was one of the last to start (up to 1 hour after the first fleet sets off).

It is then fantastic to watch us reel in the fleet as we top out hull speed and in all her magnificence sail under all the smaller yachts. Being about 10feet from the water, it is also very dry on board and low heel due to her weight / size makes it easy to power through the swell while the rest of the significantly smaller yachts “hobby horse” over each wave.

Unfortunately I only raced for 2 of the 4 days on Zuca et a Moana. On day two they had me trimming the foresail (the gaff sail up forward rather than the main which is the larger and nearest the stern). So after a day of cranking sails up and down, I now spent my time grinding on an enormous winch the diameter of an oil drum. I dreaded the call for a gybe, which would be given almost half a mile from the mark we were rounding. It meant that I had to start sheeting in the foresail. Even though the winches had 3 gear ratio's, it was still slow work. Especially if we were hard on the wind pre gybe. Rounding the mark 2 or 3 crew would manually haul in as much sheet as possible while I tailed it all and then eased it out once we had rounded.

There was too much wind to fly the spinnaker, but she did have one! And THAT would have been something to see / do. Ah well there is always next year :)

Over the two days I got to meet the crew and skipper, all of whom were from western Europe and fairly new to the boat except the skipper. The skipper really knew his boat. This was a 143ft, 150ton steel vessel with non of the mod cons that modern yachts have in the form of bow and stern thrusters etc. Yet he magnificently steered her in and out of a crowded marina with a good side wind and onto the dock with the skill and precision of a Hartley Street surgeon. Quite a feat to watch.

The regatta was full of these beautiful yachts. There was a few hundred tons of varnish used on all the boats and they all gleamed. Racing was not as serious as I thought it would be with most people on the yachts armed with cameras snapping away at the fleet as they whizzed past each other.

By far the most impressive are the big gaff rigged yachts with their full array of sails up. The sheer size and scale is something to behold.

Life is all about experiences. This for me was a one of those experiences. I have now set my sights on crewing on a square rigger!

Second week in Antigua

We really got into the book swap concept here. As we have a kindle we are rather the anti social readers that have great books but noone else can have the opportunity to read them too. With internet access getting less frequent its becoming harder to download new books so we collected all the books onboard from the previous owner that we didn't want and took them ashore to Jane's Yacht Services. This place has a great book swap where the owners just leave you alone in the room for as long as you wish to find the right book. We came away with 9 new books to read and swap with other yachties.

I spent another day attacking the rust on the stainless steel with phospheric acid. For days afterwards my hands looked like they had a bad dose of eczema but our guardrails and dorade vents were sparkling! Speaking of Dorade Vents. There was a boat in the Antigua Classic Regaate called Dorade for which (legend has it) Dorade vents are so named as they were first used / designed for this vessel. We rewarded ourselves with a few drinks in happy hour (the rum punch is only EC$5 / £1.25 a glass). In typical Saffa style Dylan managed to speak to a guy who happened to have a bag of biltong in his bag (Dylan's correction – it was Jerky as the guy was a Yank) like a truffle hound he can always seem to sniff this out! Wanting to return the favour we ordered the guy a scotch egg but he left before it was served – result! We gobbled down the Britishy food reminiscent of the times Dylan would bring one back for me when he walked past a Tescos on the way home.

For the first 2 races of Classic Regatta Dylan didn't participate as he was scared off by the torrential rain that seemed to come down in the morning only to clear just in time for the racing later but he did eventually get on a boat and he blogs about it so I shan't go on. I had a great time in his absence doing girly things. I persuaded my friend off Kadoona to cut my hair and even layer it around my face. Glass of wine in hand she accepted the challenge and did an excellent job. Keen to get some good photos of the racing and no desire to be on one of the boats, we set off in the dinghy to the finish line. A nerve racking start as I had never driven the dinghy without Dylan in it before and had visions of us getting in the way of these beasts as they attempted to cross the line, to add to the anxiety the swells were big and waves were crashing into us. I had studied the course before we left but on arriving it was clear they were doing a different one altogether (turned out some classes were given an alternate one). This made for an interesting afternoon where we were tossed around, second guessing which way the boats would come from and taking loads of photos most of which came out blurry as we couldn't hold the camera still. We managed to see both of the boats Ian and Dylan were racing on and it was quite something being dwarfed by these majestic beasts as they came speeding by.

Of all the freebies we consumed in regatta week, Sail Maine party was by far the best. We were given free t shirts which immediately boosted Dylan's wardrobe by 33.33%. Free rum punch was doing the rounds and more food that you could eat which was an anomaly as normally the freebies dry up after 30 mins. Not only was there copious amount of food, it was also GREAT food. We slurped on lobster bisque and munched our way through the biggest kingfish I have ever seen served on a bread roll with a large leaf acting as a plate. Yum. I had a tired grizzly bear next to me though that had had too much day trimming the foresail so we headed up early and I listened to the rest of the great music whilst Dylan snored away happily.

After the racing festivities were over we wanted to head to Green Island on the eastern side of the island prior to heading to Barbuda. I was keen to get some fresh fruit and veg to keep us going so I left Dylan in Mad Mongoose using the free internet whilst I headed to a guy called Aubrey who I had been told sold fruit until 1pm in English Harbour. I wasn't disappointed, he has reasonable prices and good quality produce which is more than can be said for the rest of the shops in the area. I even found baby pineapples that we had never tried before so I eagerly snapped up a bag keen to add to our list of new food. They were great, sweeter than the normal pineapple we ate them like corn on the cob, their juice dripping down our chins and onto the cockpit floor. Thats the great thing about eating outside, a bucket of sea water washes away all of the dirt. Free and easy!

After a windward bumpy slog we arrived in Nonsuch Bay and took a free mooring ball between Green Island and Bird Island. What a pleasure not to bed the anchor, however Dylan did still dive on it to check it was in good shape. It was not in the Doyle Guide but was mentioned on the charts which means they are a recent addition to the area (within the last 12 /18 months). From where we were located looking out to sea, there was nothing between us and Africa, waves rolling unbroken until they hit a different continent. Quite impressive when you think about it, our view out to the Atlantic Ocean totally unspoilt.

Snorkelling time, we swam to Bird Island but it wasn't great viewing apart from the huge conch beds. We took a couple of them and made a small conch farm at the bottom of our mooring chain, tying them together with twine so they wouldn't get away (unless they were particularly adept at the three legged race). The intention was to bring them with us to Barbuda where we would set about making conch curry but we decided against it as travelling conch would have to be kept in a bucket of salt water which would slosh around everywhere under sail. Reluctantly Dylan untied our catch and set them free on nice patches of sand.

Another snorkelling spot mentioned in the cruising guide was the reef in front of our little mooring ball, quite a swim away. Feeling energetic we battled against the current and reached the spot where we came across great corals. Huge brain coral, fantastic visibility but little in the way of fish. Shame we don't have an underwater camera as these corals were huge, dwarfing us as we dived to the bottom to check for any lobbies that could end up in our pot that evening. We came away empty handed.

Kadoona arrived with guests the evening before we were leaving. As they are off to Bermuda and then crossing the Atlantic to Ireland and we are off North – we said our final farewells. Our friends since Carriacou, Grenada and the only couple we have met so far at a similar age, they will be deeply missed!

5:20am Dylan prods me awake and drags me out of bed to start our passage to Barbuda. An island that few yachties go to (favouring instead to head straight to St Martin) we are looking forward to what it has to offer.

First week in Antigua

We arrived in Antigua days before the Classic Regatta was about to start so this may provide the reasoning behind what I'm about to say...Antigua for me is like Marbella. A pretty place full of pasty well to do Brits intent in getting absolutely wasted all day every day. However if you get away from the popular places, there are some real treats to see and experience. Ill tell you about some of the highlights.

Our port of entry was Jolly Harbour, the clearance charges are a lot less here as you don't need to pay environmental fees. We had heard you are meant to motor into the marina and dock alongside the customs office but with the wind strong and more boats coming in behind us we opted to drop the anchor and dinghy in. The usual bureaucratic hurdles ensued. Customs, immigration and port authority are next to each other and we proceeded to fill in countless pieces of paper all with the same information for multiple people. Well I say we....Dylan found something particularly interesting to look at by the berths so left it to me to do all the admin. Took us about 30 mins which OK isn't that long but we just wanted to jump behind the desk and set about improving their processes to make them more efficient. We had filled out eseaclear online which is the new 'quick' way of checking in to multiple countries in the Eastern Caribbean, unfortunately, the ladies were not up to speed with this so we needn't have bothered. We have heard since that the process is in its early stages and should be rolled out properly in the next couple months – that will provide a vast improvement to the customs experience!

Jolly Harbour is surrounded by gorgeous blue water but looks can be deceiving. We were anchored in 12ft water yet couldn't see the anchor chain, the fine bottom sand was churned up meaning visibility was almost 0. With that said though, the waters around Antigua are a beautiful turquoise colour. When dinghying into the bay we marvelled at the amount of houses lining the water, each with their own berth. Despite the facilities here the marina and surrounding property were almost empty. We were told that this is most unusual at this time of year, especially with it being so close to the regattas. Suits us fine though, the less people around the better!

Checking out the facilities ashore I was delighted to find FREE FRESH water showers (although they were probably for those on the Marina not very yachty and his dog). One of my first tasks was to take a bag full of all my toiletries that I haven't used in months and spend a looong time in the showers using each one. Heaven. Squeaky clean I headed off to the supermarket with great expectations as this was flagged as a good place to provision, I wasn't disappointed. Compared to all of the other food shops we had been to so far, this was outstanding. A huge supermarket stocked with everything you can think of. Sure in the UK thats what you expect when walking into a Tesco's but in the Caribbean we always walk away with only half (if we are lucky) of our shopping list. Gourmet sections aside, the produce was reasonably priced and we came away content – although that could be to do with the fried chicken we treated ourselves to at the deli counter...

After a day in Jolly Harbour we wanted to head over to Five Islands Harbour for some seclusion prior to getting to Falmouth Harbour in time for the Classic Regatta. Five Island Harbour is only around the corner from Jolly and is a huge bay that had only one other yacht in it. Wanting to use the free wifi from a posh hotel ashore, we anchored near the beach. That evening, we sat on the foredeck on a beautiful moonlit night with a gentle breeze swaying the boat to and fro to the sounds of a live steel drum band playing at the hotel. Drinks in hand we admired our almost secluded surroundings. Life is pretty darn good!

Forecasting 25 knots on the Monday before the regatta we chose to sail anyway so we could get a good spot to anchor in prior to the event as we expected Falmouth to be busy. A gusty 15 mile sail to Falmouth dodging the odd reef and shallows along the way kept us on our toes. We did make excellent time though and the sun was high in the sky when we entered the bay, wide eyed at the tons of mega yachts we were going to call our neighbours. We were the last of our group of friends to get to Falmouth Harbour so we spent the rest of the day catching up on their adventures since Dominica where we had left them.

Exploring ashore we mingled with the crews of the mega yachts and Dylan had his ear to the ground, hoping he would get the opportunity to race on one. Walking around the marina we were able to get up close and personal with these 140ft+ beasts. I'm not envious of the crew members that have to polish the stainless steel! Dylan spent forever looking at each of the boats and I entertained myself by eaves dropping people's conversation. Always fascinated with how the 'other half' live, it was great fun hearing the trials and tribulations of middle aged rich men and their toys. Time for domestic duties and we went on a mission to find a laundrette as I wasn't feeling like hand washing and then airing our clothes in such a busy anchorage. The laundrette in the bay charged US$40 for a large load...as if!! We quickly exited that establishment (which was little more than a lean to shack with a couple of washing machines) and headed for English Harbour.

English Harbour was completed in 1745 and looks much the same today. Fully restored, this is the yachting hub of Antigua and managed by Nelson's Dockyard National Park. Old sail houses and sail loft pillars still stand giving it a look very similar to Greenwich, London. It has the atmosphere of a small village complete with Dockyard Bakery and a few little restaurants overlooking the marina and the mega yachts. The day I wore a maxi dress and flip flops was the day I was presented with a trail leading up to Fort Berkely. Never one to turn down an opportunity, we walked it anyway and I just hitched my dress up to my knees, navigating in my gripless flip flops rather unladylike up the hill. Only a short walk away we reached the Fort and were rewarded with a spectacular view of English Harbour and out to sea. Noting this would be a great place to watch the Regatta we started our descent on the look out for another laundry. We eventually found one around the back of the dockyard in a small shed. This place is run by Baby and Elizabeth and we were greeted with 2 mangoes complete with napkin for our custom. At US$12 /load it was totally worth the walk.

The day the regatta started, Dylan hadn't succeeded in finding a boat. I keep a diary every day and an exert from this sums it up nicely:

• Ate refried chickpea curry leftovers for breakfast
• Read our new books – Dylan now seems to take after me and refuse to put a book down until it is read all the way through. Makes for a most delayed getaway when we want to leave the boat!
• Had my weekly shower which is always something to look forward to. Went for a snorkel first to check just how shallow the reef is behind us. Put it this way, I can stand up and the water comes to about my chin...don't want to be dragging onto that! Then I went to see Laani on Kadoona and swam past La Luna who hailed me over for a chin wag.
• After a lazy day and 1 ½ hours of our life wasted watching 'Dinner with Schmucks' – just don't watch it...ever, we got our arses into gear and went ashore
• Aim was to get bread and respond to emails (yawn). Necessities done we took advantage of happy hour again and got some supplies so we could go back to the boat and make pierogies. They now seem to be Dylan's top request.
• On getting back to the boat we bumped into Kadoona and Libertine who were going ashore to check out the events at the yacht club. Not wanting to miss out we had a quick dinner of eggs, beans and bread (Dylan was denied his pierogies) and we went back ashore.
• The dinghy dock was rammed, 3 dinghies deep in the yacht club area so we opted for our usual spot, a short walk away
• We arrived just as the concourse d'elegance prize giving was starting. Bumped into Miss Molly and sampled the free breaded chicken satays that were doing the rounds.
• Nothing much happening apart from toffs comparing crew t shirts so we made a hasty departure and went to find Ian etc in case they had any luck finding a boat that needed crew so Dylan could race too
• Found them in Mad Mongoose and they hadn't had any luck. Had a quick chat, didn't stop for a drink and made our way back to boat for some more reading. Yep we are that rock n roll.

And thats how we are more than capable to while away a day!