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British Virgin Islands
By Alex | January 15, 2009
What sights - sailing in to the British Virgin Islands. Eighteen days with nothing but the wind, sea, stars and occasional squall and we arrive in tropical paradise. The former has its beauty, the latter very welcome. Lush green islands rising from blue tropical waters coupled with the knowledge that a shower and cold beer is but moments away raises the spirits of the crew, should we say. Alex and Conor, maybe so as to get to the beer more quickly, maybe because they were the cleanest of the crew, who knows, took advantage of a rain shower as we approached Virgin Gorda and stripped to their shorts for a cheeky shower in the rain. Maybe they just like being mostly naked and lathered up in public!
We were met by Duncan and Ria, Ewan’s parents, and handed a glass of rum punch each as well as being presented with a large basket of fruit - lovely. A few found themselves at little unsteady on their feet, walking on land after two and a half weeks at sea, The others, I’m sure, were anticipating feeling that way in a very short while - great rum punch! So greetings were made, cravings for steak fulfilled, local prices railed at and, at least for the permanent crew - Duncan, Ewan and Alex, the holiday started. The days of dividing ones time between sailing, sleeping and working on the boat, exclusively, were behind us. Welcome to the Caribbean.
We relaxed on Virgin Gorda for a few days, snorkeled, relaxed, visited ‘The Baths’ - a collection of rocks and caves and pools, and relaxed - ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Conor left us on Caribbean day 2 for Cuba and Gilad and Maya deboated a few days later to look for work. We were now 4 - Duncan, Ewan Alex and Mairi , and we were missing something - where was the party at?
Jost Van Dyke (island) is famed for Foxy’s. We’d heard of it, seen many people sporting Foxy’s t-shirts, been told that we HAD to go there - that was where the party was at. We set sail again, this time loving the fact that it would take 2-3 hours to get to our destination, far preferable to 18 days. The sailing was stunning, the wind good, sun belting down (got to work on that tan), more beautiful views of various islands and of course we enjoyed absolutely nailing past charter boats - sailing around the world in a racing yacht might be less than luxurious but it has its fun moments. Foxy’s was dead - doh! No big party for us. We did though meet a group of English guys, one of whom lived in the BVIs and partook of a few ales with them. Little Mairi made inroads into finding work on the islands and both Alex and Neil (one of the English guys) fell into the water whilst attempting to board the guys’ boat - after bar beers were taken wearing towels - nice!
The beauty of meeting locals is that you find out about places that you’ll not find in the guide books, this is particularly great if you can’t even be bothered to read the guide books. The guys took us to a place on Jost Van Dyke that was probably once considered secluded, that would have been before the building of Foxy’s Metro. OK, it wasn’t actually called Foxy’s Metro, the true name escapes me but it was a smaller offshoot of the original bar. We walked for about 15 minutes on sandy track through mangroves, arriving in a heightened state of anticipation at a small pool separated from the sea by a small inlet through the rocks. As the swell rolled in, the waves crashed through the inlet creating a cross between a spa pool and a wave machine on overdrive, which was nice. From there we sailed past The Indians , a picturesque group of stumpy finger-like rocks to Norman Island, for the purpose of visiting Willy T’s, the faux pseudo pirate ship bar, where the party was apparently at. As opposed to the massive night out craved by some, we all fell asleep early doors and whilst this was to Duncan’s chagrin Alex was loving it - a great night’s sleep followed by a little morning yoga - get in!
Returning to the Indians we snorkelled for a while ’round shallow reef with slightly perturbing chasy fish before heading to Marina Cay, a tiny island sporting an old-skool red UK phone box and dominated by a Pussers (rum) bar. Interwebbing and painkiller (rum, coconut cream, pineapple juice, orange juice served with a cherry and grated nutmeg - do it!) drinking by Alex preceded a meander around the Pussers cocktail menu by all parties. Waking the following morning the gang was a tad worse for wear, Duncan more worserer, his shorts containing his wallet, having blown out of his hammock during the night. Mairi left us, joining the English guys with a babysitting job and promise of a veritable library of contacts and Catherine joined us for a 2 week Caribbean break extravaganza. Alex and D sought the party a little more at ‘The Last Resort’ and met a few folks and the following day we headed to The Bitter End to the north of Virgin Gorda.
It’s a shame that we’d not gone to The Bitter End sooner or allowed more time to stay there. The prettiest place in the BVIs that we’d found, the only construction being the marina and hotel complex. It was picturesque and clean with stunning views over the sound and nearby islands, perfect for a week of reading on the beach and water sports but, St Maarten was beckoning…
See photos of our time in the British Virgin Islands here
Topics: The Voyage - Leg 3 |
January 16th, 2009 at 11:27 pm
Totally agree, Bitter End a perfect bech paradise. White sands and clear blue waters. Those unlocked 5* Beach Huts were crying out for us to stay longer.
January 16th, 2009 at 11:30 pm
* beach paradise
(I teach Drama / Theatre Studies it’s about being a tree - we don’t need to be able to spell)