Back to Warmth

Meryl was still cold from our month-long "Tour de Winter" across the US, Japan, and Hong Kong.

 Our 11:30 pm departure from Seattle to Newark was somewhat of a blur since we were both so wiped out from our Seattle visit. Soon we were having our last real American breakfast at Newark Terminal (scrambled eggs, hash browns, bacon, and toast) before boarding a nearly empty 11:00 am flight to Antigua. We got First Class so it was fun to sit together, which is somewhat rare given all the flying we do. It was weird to look down at the deep blue sea and think of all the effort it took us to sail those same miles when we left Florida bound for the West Indies.

This was such a welcome sight to our eyes as we circled during our approach to Antigua Airport.

Soon the emerald green water of Antigua was poking out from amongst the clouds and I could  feel the tension melting away. Upon landing, and luxuriating in the warm tropical air, we hired a porter who assured us he could get our three huge boxes of boat parts, food, etc. through Customs. Well, the Customs man made me open all three boxes (which were barely held together despite the best efforts of many ramp rats).

Peering into the boxes, he said: What’s all this?

“Stuff for the boat,” I replied.

"OK," he said.

And off we went.

During the hey days of offshore money laundering on Antigua, this casino was packed every night. Now it's just a white elephant.

 After a quick cab ride to Jolly Harbor we were trying to figure out how to get the three huge boxes, two suitcases, two carry-ons, and other junk down to the dock. Since the boat was “bow in,” we had to figure a way to lift everything up four feet to clear the bowsprit and then down the line-strewn deck to the cockpit. Where are three strong Australians when you need them? “Right here, mate,” came the reply from behind me. “Need a hand?”

Have you ever watched a box die in front of your eyes?

The ironical thing is that after 6,000 miles of flying, one of our cardboard boxes literally burst open as it was quietly sitting on the cockpit seat waiting to go down below. Don’t ever, ever use U-Haul shipping boxes for transporting stuff by air. The cardboard is glorified rice paper. But as my engineering friends would say, “It got your stuff there in one piece; it did it’s job.”

The outer beach leads to the famous Jolly Beach a ways down on the right. The inner harbor leads to Jolly Harbor Marina where we had the boat moored.

Meryl loved walking down mile-long Jolly Beach in the mornings. Notice our new dorky sun protection hats.

This pool is the reason it took us so long to leave Jolly Harbor Marina. And the bar. And the restaurant.

 After everything we'd been through on our month long hiatus, we seriously needed some down time, so the next couple of days were actually somewhat relaxing: getting stuff put away and cleaning up the boat, long walks down Jolly Beach (with proper sun protection), and lazing by the pool. This is more what the cruising lifestyle is supposed to be all about.

Unfortunately every time I looked at the battery monitor it reminded me of why we had to hustle and get to St. Martin to pick up our new batteries.  At 22.8 volts (for a 24 volt system), we were literally running on empty.

Time to move on.