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Thursday, April 16, 2009, Bitter End, Virgin Gorda, BVI

     April 4th was a date we all had been awaiting anxiously on Zia.  It was the day my sister Kathy, her husband Jim, and their ten year old daughter Kayla, were scheduled to arrive for their first ever onboard Zia vacation.  Although they had come to visit us in Portugal along with our parents and sister Kimberly, they stayed in the apartment on that visit due to the limited accommodations on Zia and perhaps a little apprehension on Kathy's part.  We had some glorious days of hanging out on the boat during that visit, which emboldened Kathy to agree to a full boat vacation sometime down the road.  With the horrible weather this winter in the Pacific Northwest and Zia back in the Caribbean, what better opportunity could we ask for?

     Watching Cassie, Juliana and Kayla together - playing, talking, giggling and sharing so many wonderful experiences - delighted the parents to no end.  Kayla adapted to the boating life easily, although the lack of air conditioning proved challenging for our little Pacific-Northwester.  Three girls sleeping in one cabin generated too much body heat for her comfort and she wound up in the salon most nights.  Luckily, she was very easy-going and woke up each morning ready and eager for the next new adventure.

     Our adventurous streak was almost nipped in the bud when we introduced our family to our favorite little deserted island, Sandy Spit.  At the east end of Little Jost Van Dyke, this small piece of paradise captured all of our hearts.  After the easiest airport pick-up in the world at the Beef Island Airport in Tortola, where you can walk from the airport to the dinghy dock, we set sail in the morning, knowing our guests would find nothing to complain about if we anchored here for the night.  There are usually a number of boats around during the daytime, but few actually spend the night.  It was safe to bet that our guests wouldn't be in search of rowdy beach bars and dancing but rather the peaceful beauty of a solitary anchorage at a wondrous location where the Atlantic meets the Caribbean. 

     Swimming, lazing in the sun, walking around the island, kayaking, chatting and doing crosswords occupied our time when we weren't cooking, eating or cleaning up.  Kathy woke up after her second night of sleeping on Zia and announced that she had never slept better in her life.  We were off to a grand start on our Caribbean vacation together.

     Another hidden treasure lies nearby on Little Jost Van Dyke.  Around the north side of the island is a chiseled opening along the rocky coast that allows the ocean swell from the north to flow through to the sandy shore, filling a magical, pool with clear, refreshing seawater in a gurgling, swirling, rushing surge of energy.  With strong winds and a northerly swell, the Bubbly Pool can be quite frightening.  Luckily, we arrived as the tide was turning from low to high, so the water level was down and only the occasional surge made it into the pool.  The three girls had a ball, sitting on the rocks at letting the rush of water push them into the deep pool.

     After lunch ashore at Foxy's Taboo,

we decided to return to Sandy Spit for another peaceful afternoon and evening.  We had even fewer boats around for our second night at anchor here and the girls convinced us to set up a tent for them on the island so they could sleep ashore.

 

How long do you figure they lasted, alone on the island in the dark?  Even with the nearly full moon shining its bright light, reflecting off the water and white sand, and with Zia within easy shouting distance, it was too much for our three little adventurers and they were requesting a pick-up after less than an hour.   We were happy to oblige and slept well knowing our little treasures were safely tucked away on Zia.

     One of the many spectacular settings in the British Virgin Islands is the well-known destination called the Baths, located at the southwest tip of Virgin Gorda.  Large granite boulders lie scattered around the landscape, as if thrown haphazardly by giants.  Walking along the white sandy beach, one encounters these two story high rocks, resting on top of and against each other, forming hidden alleys leading to secret pools of clear water with fine sand bottoms that catch and reflect the shafts of sunlight that find their way through the maze of granite.  Kathy and Jim were happy that we pulled them away from our Sandy Spit oasis to share this experience with them as well.

     Of course, the Bitter End was also on our list of places that we wanted to share with our family.  Cassie and Juliana were excited to introduce their cousin to all of their friends up here, including Celine and Anouk on "Cenou," Jaimie and Skylar on "Sky," as well as the wonderful staff at the sailing school here who have been so sweet with them as they hang around and "help" carrying sails and sweeping up floors.  In addition, we had a couple of birthday celebrations planned for the ninth.  Anouck was turning ten and we had nearly that many little girls (and one boy) here to help her celebrate. 

The adults also had cause to break out the champagne to help Po celebrate her 50th birthday.  How would ever believe it?

     With all these festivities planned for Thursday night, we decided to have a nice mellow night on Wednesday, anchored behind the reef in Eustatia Sound.  You are in the middle of nowhere out there, with no other boats, no lights, no noise except the gentle music of the waves wash up against the reef.

With the full moon rising to our east as the sun sank behind the hills of Virgin Gorda, Jim was putting the final touches into his famous sausage pasta sauce.  We had seen a monohull coming towards the unmarked cut in the reef under full sail a half hour earlier.  This is a pretty confident maneuver as this time of day, without good light to verify the depth of the bottom beneath your keel.  We commented on it but forgot about it.  Next we looked out that way, Joe started speculating that they had run up on the reef.  Sure enough, a moment later I saw a spark going off the stern of the boat.  Although their flare was a dud, the message was clear.  We radioed our buddy John, the quintessential boater, told Jim to go ahead and feed the kids, and zoomed over to see what we could do to help.  It was heartening to see half a dozen boats come to the aid of a fellow boater in distress.  It took close to two hours before we finally managed to haul the well-wedged keel free from the craggy teeth of the reef.  So much for our quiet evening basking under the moonlight anchored in seclusion behind the reef.

     Since "Bohi Island," as Sandy Spit is now referred to, was too far to travel for our last day together on Zia, the consensus was to remain at the Bitter End.  The kids were unanimous and Joe and I had an ulterior motive: the forecast showed enough wind for kiting on Friday and Saturday.  There was a very convenient ferry to deliver our guests to the very same dinghy dock they walked to when we picked them up a week ago.   We had a lazy last day together, basking in the sunshine, the memories and the warmth of family.

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