20 February 2014 | Simpson Lagoon, Sint Marteen 18’02.77N 63’05.76W – Road Bay, Anguilla 18’11.84N 63’05.60W
Steve McQueen had to shift a lot of mud to escape his PoW camp in ‘The Great Escape’, equally those in “Stalag Luft” toiled tirelessly to extricate themselves from the clutches of the ‘Axis of Evil’. As they worked they dreamt of the utopia of the rolling green fields of England and jolly cups of tea. Although not on an equal scale we had toiled hard to escape the lagoon and punt out into the picture perfect waters of Anguilla. Since leaving England in March 2011 we had now been stationary for longer than in any other anchorage since Hamble.
As we’d been stationary for the longest amount of time since setting off from Hamble in 2011 getting the anchor up was going to be a real challenge. We then had to get through the broken causeway bridge and finally there was a race against time to complete the formalities to catch the Dutch bridge out to the open sea. We thought that we had been foiled at the first step as the anchor was so well dug into the mud in the lagoon that we thought its point was sticking out in Australia. The anchor finally gave up the fight and we were ready to make for the temperamental causeway bridge.
At the appointed hour, instead of swinging open, the bridge remained firmly shut. Thankfully a chap with a spanner big enough to star in a Roadrunner cartoon appeared and things slowly started to move. We could literally see our escape route opening and then suddenly everything came to an abrupt halt. As the queues of cars grew longer on the bridge and more and more men with big spanners got to work our fears grew that we’d be ‘stuck in the lagoon’. Thankfully the bigger spanners worked and finally part 1 of the escape plan had been completed.
We now had a race against time and it was a serious challenge because of the late bridge. Iain buzzed off across the lagoon in Thug to complete our exit formalities and hope to make it back in time to get the bridge. Constantly watching the clock he made it back with minutes to spare, up came the anchor and we were now in the queue for bridge number 2. We seamlessly slipped out into the startlingly beautiful and shiny waters of the Caribbean Sea and we could join the ranks of those WWII escapee’s.
All the work that we had done on Ruffian gave rewards on the sail to Anguilla. The radio was alive with traffic as never before and we could even hear it with the new speakers that had been installed on deck. Amazingly we even heard our name being called and had a long chat with Westward who we’ve not seen or heard from in 10000 miles.
Anguilla was our version of the green and pleasant rolling fields of England. The sea shimmered and the beach glowed. The sand was as soft as velvet and there were fascinating wrecks to explore which were slowly being eaten by the sea.
That night, sitting on Serafina in Anguilla, still high on the experience of moving once again we hatched a great plan. We’d go sailing with the crew of Serafina on Ruffian and introduce them to the delights of small boat sailing. The next morning, bright and very breezy we left Anguilla with 2 new crew members.
The sail was not what you would call ‘classic Caribbean’. We were soaked to the bone by rain, the skies were grey with clouds and the islands were hidden by the marauding squalls. It was as different to sailing the luxury yacht Serafina as night is to day and to cap it all we even managed to put a tear in the main that would need the Serafina’s sewing machine to fix.
The job of fixing sails is always a joy on a little boat. First of all you have the pain of getting the thing off the boom and downstairs, you then have to manipulate yards and yards of heavy sail in a tiny space and all this while you slowly get cooked in the heat of the day under the insulative properties of the sailcloth smothering you.
With the sail fixed and Ruffian back in working order we needed to return ‘Sera the Sewing Machine’ to Serafina. Taking Sera on Thug was going to be way way too risky and so she needed picking up. We radioed up Serafina and they denied all knowledge of owning a sewing machine, they did admit that they used to have a sewing machine space in one of their lockers, but that was now filled with other more interesting things.
It slowly dawned on us that this was the kindest and most thoughtful of gifts. We were the proud owners of a sewing machine. The days of Iain sewing for hours and hours by hand were over. “Serafina. We love you. Serafina. We do.” (To be sung to the tune of ‘Grandma we love you’). Thank you very very much.
As we have the ability to move once again that is exactly what we are doing and tonight we’ll be making best advantage of the moon and the wind and sailing overnight to the US Virgins.
That’s more like it.
We were even happy reaching around and going upwind!!!
Another day. Another county. Another addition to Ruffian. A new Q flag.
Desert islands rock.
We like Anguilla with its amazing beaches,
And really cool wrecks.
Ruffian once again happy in turquoise waters.
This is not what we booked for our jolly day out with Serafina.
Welcome to the world of exposed sailing.
Sewing a mainsail in a little saloon is such an easy task.
Beer, beer glorious beer. Friends, friends, glorious friends.