Four days before Mike was to arrive – his bags likely packed a week or two prior – we quickly squeeze in one more item to be sent to Ben’s folks. The smallest piece of chain you’ll never see, belonging to our Monitor windvane that Ben happened to snap just as he was finally fixing the rest of it. That paired with the cost likened to gold and all so that we can sail for free, without the use of electricity or our own efforts on the helm. 

We hustle to get some projects done, recognizing that this is a transition from our time in the Caribbean to preparing to sail away from these winter cruising grounds. A bit of welding, a bit of sewing, a bit of engine maintenance, a bit of writing and a deep clean later and we were ready to provision the boat. 

For our grocery run, we hired a car for two days. We set eyes on the Carrefour in Centre de Commercial. Early in our time in Guadeloupe we had hitchhiked to this complex from the west side of the island and were thoroughly impressed with the large delicatessen, crepe-making station and french goods. Now anchored in the middle of the butterfly shaped island in Pointe a Pitre, it was only a 15 minute drive away. I had a rough idea of what we wanted to get but used the first day for bulk items and to see what long term goods we could buy and not get later, aligning our grocery list for the following day. Because it was comical and probably a smart idea, I kept a record of what we purchased. As follows:

[50lbs of rice; 26lb of flour; 10lb sugar; 48lb pasta; 38lb lentils; 13lb dried beans; 5lb quinoa; 2lb block of parmesan; 20 cans coconut milk; 20 cans chickpeas; 12 large cans tomatoes; 6 large cans chili con carne; 10lb coffee; 6lb museli; 10lb date paste (one pack for the grab bag!); 20 jars of pesto; 20 sticks of cured meat; dried mushrooms; a dozen bottles of french wine; rum; a few bars of chocolate (honestly) and two New Zealand legs of lamb for the freezer]. 

All up we added about 400lbs to the boat. We hadn’t provisioned this extensively before so had to find and establish places in the boat to store such goods. Storage got moved around and packed more efficiently, and apart from stealing some space in Ben’s workshop, we surprisingly packed her away cleanly. This is what happens when you don’t get cabinets until year five of a refit, subsequently you have no idea what to do with the extra space! 

---

Waiting at the airport to collect Mike, we stereotype whether the people coming out of customs derived from a French or American flight. We were also holding our breath a little as Mike had two extra bags of luggage choc-full of plumbing parts, marine hose, fiber glass, sunbrella fabric, a propeller, metal frames for our dingy and various other things of that nature that we decided were too difficult and expensive to get down here. Surprisingly they didn’t check or care and he was hurried on through. Phew! That along with Mike saying gracias to someone leaving the airport, we were thankful! 

Having a car is a nice tool so we continue a little past where the boat was anchored and check out a little of the coast. Back at the dingy we load up and manage to all fit in while I sit on top of the luggage pretending like I’m Mr. Bean atop his mini. We did, however, flood the dingy (first time) when a wave hit it the wrong way. Welcome to boat life Mike.

In the cockpit we began the unpacking. Mike was quick to rid these items from his name and we reciprocated like it was Christmas. A tally was also soon established for the amount of times he would hit is head somewhere on the boat. My favourite package besides the piece of metal that will now hold the cockpit table in place, was a packet of pineapple lumps that my Aunty Naomi had sent over with a New Zealand and Maori flag. Stoked! It was also Easter Sunday the next morning so no excuses not to munch down the whole pack. Thanks Aunty!

---

The next morning was a slow-coffee-kind-of-morning while we catch up. Mike and Ben find gas for the dingy and we lift anchor heading due south for Les Saintes. The shallow waters and a good head wind created an uncomfortable chop and sailing conditions. Thankfully the skies were cloudy and we were distracted by our chatter. Our angle on the wind eased and we pull into Pain de Sucre dropping the hook in a calm 20’ clear waters.

The following morning we move to an available and free mooring, near to an easy dive spot. We pull out our gear, revising it as somehow it’s always needing it. The last thing we altered was my BCD, the inflation portion had become unglued so Ben cut it all away and turned it into a makeshift hard-pack with buckles and connectors which I sewed back into place. It had been a while since Mike had been scuba diving, which was once a hobby of his and Brenda’s, so we do a quick recap in the shallows and make sure he’s comfortable. We dive near some large boulders in the clear easy waters, warming back up in the sun and descending again to use the remainder of our air.

That evening we head into the town for a sunset hike to the top of Terre de Haut. Somehow gelato happened on the way before the hike. Another stunning sunset atop this small island. We dine out seated in the quaint street atmosphere, each ordering the seafood delicacy. Back to the boat with a dark but successful mile long dingy ride with minimal chop.

To continue our travels north, we hoist the main and genoa, wait for the wind to push our bow over and let go of the mooring line. It’s a grand and powerful downwind sail to the west coast of the mainland. Around the corner we’re met with light winds from the opposite direction and decide to put the asymmetrical up on a port tack. This is only the second time we’ve flown this sail in the Caribbean, so we quickly and bravely toss the drone up whilst towing the dingy and still with the fishing line out. Multiple distractions – thankfully all well behaved. 

Anchoring along the coast we try to find the patch of sand that we had hooked in before but couldn’t locate it. It had been the perfect spot between moored boats. Afterwards I realised that the sand patch had filled in with new sea grass. This is one of the downfalls of anchoring in places with sea grass – the turtles food gets stripped away as the chain and anchor rub on the seabed so I was glad to know that it grew back relatively quickly. 

---

Nearby we get our tanks refilled and head out to the spot with a wreck lying in 80 ft of water. Ben and Mike dive the wreck first, then we switch out and I go back down with Ben to check it out, swimming through the propeller opening and visiting the engine room. Make-do pizza is served for lunch back at the boat, another refill later and we head over to the small island this time for a pleasant dive near old man Jacques. Mike and I admire the intricate sea wall. Ben later tells us that while on the surface he had a run in with a local tour operator wanting to get near where he was swimming to show people the marine life with his glass bottom boat. 

Brownie points go to Mike as he pulls out his dive log from multiple years ago, as well as bringing along his old mask and snorkel. I also happen to score a pair of Brendas old dive gloves. We fill out our logs and I add a bit more detail to Mikes, noting how much fun he had! It wasn’t until I turn back a page or two that I realize his last dive was before I was born!! I gasped and told him I would have done a more thorough refresher dive. 

To stretch our legs we head to shore to find some food at a local joint. No english but a half chicken and some fries later we’re stuffed. Another great day. The following morning Ben and I went back to the wreck but to free dive it. Now having known depths at the bow from yesterdays scuba, we could quantify our dives. A fun hour or so had while others nearby breath air from tanks. We both hit personal bests and have thoroughly enjoyed practicing this minimal and freeing sport. It will be something I miss going forward. Continuing north we hit Deshaies for the last time and the last chocolate croissant. We clear out of the country and weigh anchor the next morning for Antigua. 

I told Mike to bring his fishing luck with him and surprisingly he did. We caught a nice mahi mahi and a cero – the only fish we’ve caught in between the Caribbean islands. After a nice reach and moderate seas, seven hours and 50nm later we pull into Jolly Harbour and clear in under the scorching canopy. We enjoy a classic movie night and fresh fish dinner on Caprivi. After walking around the local housing community, each with their own dock in the protected harbour and encompassed with flora similar to that of Utah – where Mike and Brenda now live – we sail back south over the shallow clear waters as large turtles duck under the surface as we pass by. The evening before our last sail we dine on fresh pineapple and rum cocktails served with crumbed mahi mahi. Mike’s on dishes again and another round of movies. 

Our last sail brings us tacking into Falmouth Harbour. Here he’ll depart in two days time so we make the most of seeing the area, including the small trails, fancy boats and UNESCO dockyard. It’s definitely a cool spot to see. In the end, the ‘head’ tally was retired by inadequate record keeping as it proved too much to keep up with. We had a super fun ten days with lots packed in, and hopefully Mike got a nice look into our life aboard Caprivi. We do hope you’ll keep on joining us in the places we venture, anytime! 

Thanks for coming. 

---

Mike disappears in the taxi towards the airport and somehow three weeks go by and we haven’t moved. A few things do occur: we join the Antigua Classic Yacht Race on Andy’s schooner Principles, Ben flies to New York and we get into yet another bout of boat projects before we have to pull ourselves away from this cosy place and the Caribbean altogether. 

We agreed to join Andy’s crew back in Bequia and what an excellent four days we had. At first glance, one might say a motley crew but peering closer there was a lot of skill and experience onboard.  During the event, winds were strangely light from the ubiquitous trades but there was enough to get a lift by pulling out the array of light air cloth. Each start we were on point and amazingly, we came second overall in our schooner class. One race I didn’t attend, instead taking the dingy out to the start line and capturing Andy and crew in front of the fleet heading over the line. It was fantastic sights, seeing all the other classic yachts sailing by, both small and gigantic, and mostly avoiding collision as each vies for the start line.

After each race we would go back home to recoup before the free rum flowed and partying took place. Somehow we attended every evening and managed to come out on the other end. A great time, good atmosphere and an excellent crew of humans. 

---

Two days later Ben flew to New York. Conveniently, a direct flight. His sole purpose for this trip was for someone in an office to look at his passport and then to look at him and say ‘yep that looks legit’. Thankfully that’s what happened and a week or so later Ben officially became a Permanent Resident of New Zealand – indefinitely. Pretty fricken cool. I rang NZ immigration to verify some things and in my home accent the lady said ‘yep, we consider him as a full on kiwi / New Zealander’. In our case a passport doesn’t matter too much, he just can’t become prime minister or work in Australia, and as I joke, tell him he’s probably too old now. 

We had begun that process back in October, curiously once I had become an American. There are many obvious reasons for this decision but the overarching one – as inconvenient as it may seem – was to apply while we still looked normal. Normal in the sense of having an address, being located in our place of residence (at least that of the country) and also, recently employed. These simple things come in handy at times, so we used it’s power before we decisively and emphatically broke the code. Gone sailing.

Back on Caprivi, I have a few days of peace. I’m not even sure I left the boat! I get some sewing done, making weather cloths and after Ben returned, made a permanent cockpit shade with battens foraged, as well as from the local sail loft. Ironically, I’d finally made the shade after six years of living in the sub-tropics and a week before we were to depart from them. 

During this time our friend Nico departed on his 18ft yacht back across the Atlantic Ocean to Europe. And another, Guy on his trimaran, had pulled into the harbour of whom we had met in Simons Town, South Africa in 2015. He was on his circumnavigation and we were boat sitting while prepping a motorcycle for land travel. During covid he purchased Oceans Tribute in New Zealand, rebuilt her and left a few months back to get to the current sailing season of the Caribbean. He pretty much sailed half the world, solo and fast to get to these events. Unfortunately we didn’t get to have a proper catch up but it was nice to run into him again.  

The next week was Antigua Sail Week and the last of the regattas. We did not attend, have a boat to crew on nor have it in us to make it through so we relaxed, finalized some boat projects and began to look at the weather for our voyage north to Bermuda.