Sunday = Women Overboard.
Crowing roosters again served as our alarm clock as Hodges Creek marina woke up to a hot, sunny day. Danny and Simon made a last-minute trip to the hardware store for some kitchen implements, while the rest of us ate candy bars for breakfast and tidied up the yacht.
Noon. Guests arrive! Six women, all of them SwimVacation alumni: Miriam, Melinda, Marianne, Lexi, Yafa, and Debbie. We’ve been all over the world with these swimmers, who have individually joined us on past trips to the Bahamas, Seychelles, Hawaii, Greece, Grenada, and here in the BVI.
We give talks on our first day here, Sunday. The boat safety talk is about fire, man overboard, keeping one hand on the yacht at all times, stuff like that. The General Health on a Yacht in the Caribbean Talk is about seasick prevention, hydration, and sleep. Swim safety is all about animals we may encounter, the “Ultimate Power of the Guide”, navigation, pacing ourselves - this is a vacation after all.
Skipper Richie sailed Yacht Rhapsody across the Drake Channel as chef LouLou put out a nice lunch of charcuterie and salad with crusty bread. We pulled into Great Harbour, Peter Island, and ooohed and aaaaahed at the turquoise water and lush green hillsides.
After an initial splash to cool off, we charted a swim along the coastline, and jumped in for a half mile or so “getting to know you” swim. I was atop the SUP watching over the swimmers when I saw a spotted eagle ray breach the surface, soar into the air, flap its wings twice, and splash back in. In all the years and miles I’ve logged swimming, surfing, boating, and paddling in the sea, I’d never seen this phenomenon before today. It was truly majestic, and I’m taking it as a sign of a great couple of weeks ahead.
Back on Rhapsody, canapes (salmon, cucumber, capers) and Tortola Dazzler cocktails (rum, ginger wine, champagne) were passed around as we gathered on the foredeck. Soon a lovely Mahi-Mahi and local yellow rice appeared for dinner, followed by a savory cheese plate for dessert.
After dinner, I took a minute to sit on the stern, feeling fortunate to be here, but also sad for my home State of Maine, where Heather and Simon also live. The mass shooting a little over a week ago really rocked us, as for many years we have lived under a false sense of security in what was thought to be the safest State in the U.S. I realized yesterday, as I was in crowded markets and other public spaces here in Tortola, a place with strict gun laws, that I had none of the anxiety that we’ve been living with for the past week in Maine.
I strung up my hammock while Simon unfurled his sleeping bag up at the helm, high above the water. Waves lapped at the cobbled shore as we drifted off to sleep. Hmmm feels like rain is coming.
Hopper
