After an uneventful 24 hour sail from the Dominican Republic, we arrived at French Cay on the edge of the Caicos Bank and headed off across the Banks to Sapodilla Bay. The stunning water, aglow with an unbelievable clarity and colour just on the blue side of turquoise, is shallow and littered with coral heads, but the GPS chartplotter has a handy magenta line marking the route and we had a relaxed motor across in dead calm. An interesting footnote: at one time not so long ago, an MP in Canada brought forth a proposal to make the T&C a Canadian territory. Unfortunately for us northerners, the T&C wasn't keen on the idea, and remains part of the British Commonwealth.

We knew we'd only have time for a quick taste of the Caicos, and anchored with just one other boat in Sapodilla Bay on Providenciales, known as Provo. After the obligatory check-in, we walked up Sapodillo Hill to take in the view and the flat rocks etched with names of shipwrecked sailors that date back to the 17 and 1800s. The view was lovely, but I couldn't help but wonder what it had been like for those sailors, imprisoned in paradise so far from home.
On lovely Sapodilla Beach, with its perfect crescent of pure white sand, we met a wonderful couple from Toronto who were vacationing on the island. The four of us went for a dinghy ride around the point to check out snorkelling possibilities at the Five Cays (a bust), and then had lunch together overlooking Chalk Sound, which is one of the six National Parks. Sometimes, you're lucky enough to meet people you feel an immediate connection with, and so it was with Lesley and Maurice. We found so many commonalities, the most impressive of which was that Lesley used to vacation at the same small lake in the Quebec Laurentians that we did. Considering the few English families in that area, and the fact that Lac Pilon is somewhat off the beaten track, it was an amazing coincidence. They kindly gave us a lift into town for provisions (Provo is a lot like being back on the mainland, with just about anything available.... for a hefty price) before going off for their scuba dive training.

Diving In the Turks and Caicos is world renowned (and expensive) because of the crystal clear water and spectacularly sudden drop off from the shallow Banks to ocean depths, which create amazing wall dives. The best snorkelling was reputed to be off West Caicos, so we sailed across and picked up a mooring there. Our first view of the north end of the island was of a huge but apparently abandoned resort or condo complex. We couldn't understand why such a blot on the landscape would have been permitted, particularly since West Caicos is a National Park. Rounding the coast to the west side, however, the vista was an uninterrupted coast of craggy coral-like rocks carved by the sea into fantastic shapes and caves. The only vessel around, we picked up a mooring ball between the forbidding shore and the sharp demarcation between turquoise and deep blue that marks the drop off to depths upwards of 6000-12000. Amazing! The snorkelling was intriguing and really different. Near the shore we could swim between rock formations as spectacular and lethally jagged as any we've seen. Fish were plentiful, but coral scarce. In one area, though, we came across an amazing field of nothing but fan coral in muted blues, mauves, pinks, yellows and oranges. Schools of fish drifted along as though winding their way through a forest of ferns. Just past the fan field, huge grouper and snappers lurked in clefts and caves of rock. Disaster of disasters, I had left my camera back at the boat! After our snorkel, we lazed around on deck in the sun with an icy beer/iced tea. We normally don't sunbathe because we get enough sun damage on our skin as it is, but the day was just too perfect to resist dragging cushions to the bow and lazing against the swell of the cabintop, admiring our own private slice of the world's beauty.

Day 3 we returned to Provo to try to meet up with Lesley and Maurice at Malcolm Roads, a long stretch of beach where we hoped to find more snorkelling before jumping north again. The beach turned out to be too long. The white sand, isolated and untouched, stretched for miles. We ended up grabbing a mooring ball close to the resort, figuring they'd have to come down that road. As it turned out, they weren't able to make it, so we connected by email and heard about their fabulous dive the day before. I am definitely going to try a dive somewhere, because even people who are a bit iffy about trying it (like me), say it's fantastic. Next year.