We clear out of St Barts before the sun begins to set, hoisting our main and genoa sails, and securing the preventer for an overnight downwind sail towards St Thomas, US Virgin Islands. The moon and swell are well in our favour. Once we were deep into the Anegada passage, we altered rig for a wing-on-wing catchment in the rolly conditions, albeit making good time. The following morning the seas had eased and we tacked our way into the bay of Charlotte Amalie around noon.

I suppose we were now back in the States. Finding customs we tied up to the ferry dock and for the first time, walked down the same aisle of the two presented to us: U.S. citizens and ‘other’. It was a cute moment but swiftly interrupted by the officer asking us to move our dingy and head around to the other entrance. We moved along the concrete wall as a float plane jetted overhead and landed in the middle of the harbour. Before long we were cleared in and on our way by foot for that American burger. 

friends fly in

Our friends were arriving in four days. So we clean up, get some projects out of the way and check out town for a bit. The island has a safari bus system with seats mounted on the back of a large bedded truck. It’s one dollar to get somewhere, and two to go further. We meet Kayla and Ogi at the airport at sunset, and who have flown in from Alaska. They had spent three weeks with us in Key West a year ago after being unsure whether their trip to see us would be a good one (culprit: Florida) – now I think their visit will be an annual tradition. After embracing their pale skins, we head out in due fashion declining the $30 taxis, and walk half a mile with luggage to catch our trusty dollar safari – they didn’t mind at all. Let the fun begin!

It’s certainly a change up to have new energy on board, and one we were excited for. Not to mention, they also delivered all of our ordered packages from the last month; from toilet parts to New Zealand butter. On day two Ben tore apart the toilet to rebuild it, fixing some minor issues but only after everyone ignored the 24 hour shore-pooping orders. Luckily we’re a rather open bunch and as it turned out poop was a common topic on board for the next month. 

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We take a couple of days for adjustments, get groceries and Ben and I shop at a Home Depot store (like Mitre 10) which may well be the last time for a while. An early departure of 330pm, we slowly tack our way to Christmas Cove near Great St James Island, which also happened to be Epstein’s old island. Here I remember some friends telling us of a boat that makes pizza in the anchorage, so we text ahead and manage to get the last order in. As we put the hook down, Kayla and I dingy over to pick up our two – surprisingly good – pizzas as we watch the sun go down. Luxury! We dive into the water to rinse off and show them how we shower in the dingy – did I say luxury? This marks the start of a fantastic time spent with good friends. The next morning we take an hour or two to snorkel the clear waters, following a feasting eagle ray. We pick up and head over to the U.S. Virgin Island National Park on St John Island.  

Turtles were abundant, clear calm waters all around and trailheads beginning at the base of our new anchorage. We spend the next day hiking in dense forest over to the southern beach and explore old sugar cane mill structures. 12 miles later we get back to Caprivi by sunset. Our bodies have been exercised, information gained, saltwater through the hair and turtles appreciated. Already it’s another of Ogi’s best days ever. 

With the decision to sail back West to the USVI (from the Lesser Antilles) and downwind with the trades, we knew it would be a hard slog back south. We weren’t exactly sure where we wanted to go in general but getting to the Virgin Islands was a trajectory for us, nonetheless. As we learnt more about the islands, it was apparent that we wanted to head further south than we had been. Luckily for us, a nasty weather system in the North Atlantic was occurring near New York and therefore sucking the energy from the unwavering Caribbean wind. This made a gap in the easterlies which clocked north. It’s not often that a break develops in the trades so we planned to take the window to get south, and save a beat into the wind at a later date. 

With this in mind we moved west to base our departure in a new anchorage along with another stunning white sand beach and its turquoise waters. Ben and I hitched into town on the back of a truck and Kayla and Ogi ran. We clear out with customs, adding our new crew to the paperwork. They find some dive fins and we’re off back to the boat to explore beneath the surface before the northern wind kicks in and we’re due to pull anchor. By the time we’re all said and done playing with the stingrays and turtles; are then fed, cleaned up and boat prepped for the two day sail, we’re too buggered to leave by sunset and decide to chill out until midnight. By this time our calm northern anchorage had turned into a chop. 

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sailing south again

I drop the mooring in the darkness getting doused by the now unprotected bay. Other boats in the anchorage were bouncing violently on their moorings – the northerly was on cue. It was a bit nerve wracking being in those conditions near shore in the pitch black, even if for a brief time. A loose mooring or crab trap could get wrapped in our propeller as we motor and Caprivi would be on the rocks in no time. A few moments later we veer south hoisting just the mainsail and are somehow speeding along at 7kts, with the wind behind us and out of the shallows. 

At first it takes a while for the weather to settle as squall systems take the energy from the shifting weather. Ben takes care of Caprivi and the frustrating sailing until first light when the weather finally begins to settle in. We reached our way back across the Anegada passage with mild swell into 20kts and a fair day’s sailing. By the following night conditions had picked up – more than forecast – and things became yucky with NNE 23-28kts and waves slamming into the beam every so often. Kayla and Ogi are a little wide-eyed and ask if this is normal. I think it’s a good point to make that sailing can be quite uncomfortable, and is often romanticised in hindsight. That being said, the compromises do not outweigh the positives and as soon as you’ve put the hook down in a sheltered bay with a beverage in hand, you’d do it all again tomorrow. 

We point as east as we can before the winds due to switch back, now with two reefs in the main and the staysail up, heading windward of the young volcanic islands and towards Antigua before veering due south. Notes from the log state that Ben is sleeping a little soggy in the cockpit at 0345 while myself and Ogi are eating granola and keeping watch. The following day the skies begin to clear and we hope to leave the squally weather behind as we sail past Montserrat. It turns into absolutely beautiful sailing, and we’re glad Kayla and Ogi get to experience a variety. They jump in with a line out while a lull is with us, and feel the power of a couple of knots through the water. Our heading is now directed for Deshaies, Guadeloupe. We spot a few whale spouts in the distance but they’re not keen to stick around. We think they were a pair of sperm whales. Caprivi’s hook goes down at 1940 hrs in the darkness after 241 nm’s of sailing from the Virgin Islands. The anchorage is choca so we’ve dropped in deep waters but are glad to be back.

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back in Guadeloupe

It has become custom to hit the Boulangerie/Patisserie so conveniently located by the dingy dock. Ben clears us in back at the same tee shirt shop and has to put Ogi’s origin as Yugoslavia, as the computer doesn’t have Serbia as a country! The attendee was rather embarrassed. After a day or two and picking up cheap (good?) wine we headed south for Pigeon Island and where we began our trip North to the Virgin Islands 20 days prior – we are such good friends, I must say! The next two hours we have beautiful wind on the beam as we sail past the few boats out, and having a blast heeling Caprivi over with gusts.

Funny enough we managed to drop the anchor in the exact same 1m x 1m patch of sand in Malendure as we knew it was a perfect spot between the moored boats. I grab my mask and fins and jump in to find it, being familiar with the seabed and with Ben idling alongside. He deploys the anchor and I dive down to move it by hand to the perfect position and he then backs down.

The next few days we take advantage of the convenient scuba diving with cheap tank fills nearby. My twelve year old BCD finally falls apart and I’m now on par with Ben’s hard pack. The diving isn’t deep so we aren’t in need of external buoyancy control. Ogi has his favourite dive to date and the clarity and coral walls were magnific!

We get in some sessions of freediving on the back side of the island as well. Back in the anchorage we swim with plentiful turtles and find two octopus hidden between an old structure on the bottom. Unfortunately in Deshaies, we happened to hit a rock with the dingy propeller in the tight river dock and later realised we spun the hub so we set to ask around about finding a propeller but to no avail. Ben runs a screw through it and we make-do until we reach a bigger city. 

On our last venture to the island, which is a mile away from the mainland, the wind had picked up and two paddle boarders became stuck on the island as they couldn’t get back against the wind. One happened to be a judge, the other a lawyer originally from Paris. So we maxed out the dingy with six people, dive gear and two paddle boards in tow as we had a wet ride back in. They invite us over to their place for some local rum and we enjoy getting to know more about Guadeloupe at their hillside property, and from a Judge’s perspective at that. We also met some Polish sailors thanks to their large Krakow eagle flag flown from the port side, and Kayla’s Polski origins. They spend an evening on Caprivi as we share stories and gain connections for future endeavours. Of course, all while sharing a bottle of Polish vodka steeped with tarnina, a dark forest berry. 

The day before we leave, Kayla and I grab a ride with our new friends headed towards the larger grocery store an hour’s drive south. I always love a good car ride since it’s somewhat a novelty and you can see so much new ground. We rise early the next day and hike for two hours before setting off south to Iles Des Saintes. 

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time on a small island

We end up motoring our way out from the lee of the island and in due course, are hit with the Atlantic swell. A time for the staysail one would say, however, we happened to be repairing the luff of the sail so it was out of commission. A deeply reefed genoa it is, and we enjoy the sporty sail towards The Saintes. We steer clear of the 40ft section in the middle of the strait jetting out from 600 ft depths. We later hear it’s quite the dive spot. Conditions ease as we come in behind Cabrit Island and into the anchorage. Wing surfers are out getting after it, windswept trees sway on the hillsides and colourful houses pronounced. We luckily find a mooring on arrival, secure Caprivi and rest for the evening. 

The next week is spent exploring the island group, walking the quaint streets during siesta, watching the sunsets from atop Terre de Haut, getting in the water and seeing the locals practice for the festive carnival season. Our diet consisted of a daily run to the Patisserie for a baguette (or three) for our homemade sandwiches. And we enjoyed a good cafe au lait while using wifi.

I spent an afternoon photographing the island and its streets and met all the goats, chickens and cats –  I swear every feline was ginger, each with their own territory. Ben had a day on the boat and got some small projects done including sewing the staysail. Ironically, Kayla and Ogi dig a good 8 mile run in the scorching afternoon sun. Near Caprivi’s mooring lay a 100ft passenger wreck in about 45ft of water which we had a lot of fun playing around in and being mermaids. We had a blast filming each other swimming throughout the wreck, as well as continuing to develop our freediving skills. 

the downside

The one downside of The Saintes were the mooring balls. They were at that time, free of charge but they sucked. The pennant on top was a large steel rod loop so when the wind died down and current moved in, the bow would bang on the tall steel loop, scratching our excellent (?) paint job. Ben tied life jackets to it but in the end rigged up our reaching-strut-turned-asymmetrical-spinnaker-pole to hold the mooring far from the bow so that it wouldn’t make contact. Nevertheless, we had a sleepless night or two as the ball would creep up and bang on our bedroom wall. 

On our last walk up the hill for sunset, some folks from mainland France invited us to share in their rum punch session. We enjoyed the day’s end, good conversation and spectacular views. Noted was a small terrier dog that followed them up to the top, and is apparently known for taking people on hikes. I think I saw him at the local market that day. It was bittersweet to leave this relaxing island and its kind inhabitants. But we were headed for Dominica which we were quite excited about, and time was running out, for Kayla and Ogi that is! 

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I’ll leave it here and start Dominica and our sail down to Martinique in the next blog. I tend to avoid writing and then it all comes out in a day or two, so as for the length (this is only half), I should write more frequently perhaps. We’re now further south as aimless empty nesters.