We followed half a dozen yachts out of Deshaies early Sunday morning, each aiming for Antigua 40 miles to the north, and one by one we left them all in our wake. The predicted light easterlies picked up to 30 knots as we close-reached at 8.5 knots across the open ocean, a bumpy but fast ride. Our freshly rain-washed deck is now all salty again.

Things have changed since we were last here 18 years ago. There are now three marinas in Falmouth Harbour that cater to the high-end crowd (pun intended): the masts of the mega sailing yachts are so high that they're illuminated with red aviation lights at night. A bevy of huge motor yachts also vie for dock space, all decorated with multiple satellite communication domes. Each yacht is worth gazillions of dollars. But out in the anchorage we're surrounded by our own kind.

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It was here in 1976, after crossing the Atlantic for the first time aboard s/v Phantasus, that we adopted our first pet, a calico kitten at Nelson's Dockyard in English Harbour, just like we'd read that world cruising pioneers Eric and Susan Hiscock had done some years before.