Low Mileage, High Voltage.

Thursday, March 19

In the early 1700s, lore has it that Blackbeard the Pirate marooned some of his mutinous crew on a small island with only a bottle of rum each and a cutlass.  Many of them decided to try to swim to Peter Island, just a half mile  away. They all died, and washed up in (what is now known as) Deadman’s Bay. Or so the story goes.

When the conditions are right, we have our guests do this swim. The channel between Dead Chest Island and Peter Island is often lively with wind, chop, and swells, and today was no different. We decided to swim as a group, rather than spread out. It was a great little swim. Nobody perished. We actually thrived.

We hung around Deadman’s bay most of the afternoon, the sun blazing hot, the water a light turquoise. Several turtles bobbed and splashed. Spotted eagle rays soared. Guest Patty snorkeled. Spicy broiled fish over shredded cabbage for lunch. Suffering remained at a minimum.

A brisk sail later brought us to The Baths at Virgin Gorda. The Prom arrived first, and guide Dave already had his guests in the water by the time the Nod showed up. Guest Peggy and I set out for a long swim, and were treated to an amazing sunset just before we got back to the boat.

Bushwhackers greeted us in short order, then chili over rice. There’s a little bit of a bouncy swell at this anchorage tonight, I’m looking forward to being rocked to sleep.

- Hopper