Sailing The Blue Water’s of The BVI’s
It rained again last night, not a long lasting rain, just a short heavy burst of wind driven rain that blew through the mooring field off Cooper Island in the BVI’s, setting the mono hulls onto their beam ends and the catamarans “flopping on their twin hulls. It was the kind of rain that wakes you from a semi-sound sleep (a captain rarely sleeps soundly when on the hook or mooring) to rush to close the hatches and port lights before the bedding gets soggy. But it passes quickly leaving the decks with a fresh water wash down and cloths left on the lifelines with a rinse.
It had rained most every night and a few mornings since we’d been underway. We had boarded “Kaela” the 43
This is the fifth year they have run charters in the BVI’s.On the surface not much seems to have changed in the BVI’s; the water is just as blue, the trade winds, this time of year, just as steady, the beaches just as white, and “island time” still controls scheduling. But if you look past the “Rose colored glasses” you can see change. Perhaps it’s more a feeling then an observation.
When the rains linger into the morning there is always a rainbow, doubles at times but always vivid. The blue skies and the high bellowing white clouds always return, never an overcast day. Each day the trade winds, coming in from the ENE, tip the Sir Frances Drake Channel with white caps promising yet another day of fantastic sailing; sailing that is both exhilarating for the seasoned sailor while challenging for the intermediate skipper and crew.
This year our itinerary had taken us on a circumnavigation of the big island of Tortola in a counter clockwise direction, to windward up The Drake to Virgin Gorda. Distances are not a big issue when sailing the BVI’s, except when the winds come down The Drake accompanied by an off-setting sea. This condition tends to result in one tack, referred to as the “non-favored” tack, being, of necessity, of short duration. Held too long it results in adding distance, as you’re set down and away from your target, and thus adding time to your destination. Overall it equates to having to make more tacks to keep from losing distance.
As a result, we picked-up the mooring line at Levrick Bay in Virgin Gordo four and half hours after leaving Road Town - a stright line distance of just 14 miles. But when the sailing is at this level in this environment who cares? It was our first time at Levrick Bay. Greta spot made more memorable by the chance meeting with an old friend, Andy Andreoli and his friend Bobbi. Andy sold us our first through fourth sailboats over 30 years ago He currently owns Atlantic Coats Yact Sales in Rock Hall.
It rained again that night at Levrick Bay, just shortly after midnight. No wind just a quick downpour, over almost before it began. A sliver of a first quarter moon sneaking out from behind the squall line did little to veil the stares set in an inky black sky.
Our next legs sent us on to Marine Cay, a stop at Monkey Point for some great snorkeling, then to Cane Garden Bay then over to Jost Van Dyke to visit Foxy’s and from ther dinghy over to the beach bars at White Bay. Each harbor in the BVI’s draws sailorswith their uniquepersonality, charm and attractions, some with a modest quietness others with a high level of tourism activity.
As we rested in Great Harbor off Foxy’s, I tuned in the weather. For the first time since leaving Road Town there was a forecast for changing weather. A deep depression was moving in from Eastern Florida and a trailing cold front ) not to be defined as we who live in the States would). Combined with high-pressure in the North Atlantic the winds and seas were on the increase as the isobars compressed. The Christmas Winds had arrived with gusts to 30 out of the NNE.
We elected to skip Norman Island and push directly to Cooper. We covered the distance, four miles, between Jost Van Dyke and the cut off Soper’s Hole under reefed main and full headsail in 40 minuets! Reaching is the strength of a cat.
Once onto the Drake we pushed to weather against gusty winds and building seas. Cooper Island lay 12 miles straight line to weather. Just short of 5 hours later, having covered 20 some miles through successive tacks, we motored into Manchioneel Bay
I end this story where we began, sitting under cover of the bimini, feeling the cool rain on my face while drinking hot tea. It would be our last day underway. Shortly we would reach back to Road Town under headsail only. The winds were up, blowing spray off the wave tops, a rainbow arching between Peter and Beef Island. A fitting end, for it does rain in paradise, squalls do roll through but the sun always shines through and the promise is always fulfilled.
Celebrate life