Hello everyone! We're in Antigua for the third time this season. The combination of good cruising grounds, good friends and good repair facilities keeps drawing us back. After the Heineken Regatta we returned to claim Evans' new CD-ROM drive which he needed to load the software for his 1999 income taxes. Customs held the drive hostage until we freed it with a medium-sized ransom of freight and fees.

English Harbour, where we're anchored, served as the Caribbean base and hurricane hole for the British fleet in the 1800s. Nelson's Dockyard, the complex of buildings on the spit of land in the center of the harbor, used to house barracks, a sail loft, dining facilities, wood working shops, boat houses, and provisioning warehouses. Head-high capstans dot the ground ashore, and were used to maneuver the great sailing vessels stern-to the man-made stone embankment which surrounds the acre of land. Most of the rough-hewn stone buildings with their white and black hurricane shutters still stand and now house museums, restaurants and hotels. Old Admiralty traditions lived long in this insulated corner of the Caribbean, and we discovered the other night that some still survive.

Friday night we were invited to "The Tot" by a Mike, a bluff, white-haired, kindly English gentleman we met several months ago. He lives aboard his 45-foot Amel, *All Grace*, and has spent the last six months off and on in English Harbour. The Tot, as he explained to us, continues the naval tradition of the daily tot of rum for each sailor to ward off disease, discontent and mutiny. But of less importance than the tot is the toast, the daily blessing of the Queen accompanied by a different toast each day of the week.

We arrived at the Copper and Lumber Store (now a restaurant, bar and hotel) on the dockyard at quarter to six, and people were already gathering. Mike explained that most were members, which entailed participating in "The Tot" a certain number of times. "Overseas members, like me," he said, "must take part seven times in fourteen days. Resident members, those who live full-time in Antigua, must participate 20 times in 30 days. All members must also be able to answer questions about British sea-faring history. They're quizzed on the last night of their membership period, and if they pass they then return and invite everyone to participate in a second tot to celebrate their joining."

At a few minutes to six, twenty or so people filed out of the main lobby at the Copper and Lumber Store and into the restaurant where a table had been set up with iced glasses, pitchers of water, bottles of molasses-colored Pussers rum and a small wooden barrel with a funnel sticking out of it. We picked up a big glass of water and a smaller glass of rum. I was intimidated to see that the rum glass held far more than a shot - more like four. One of the members just ahead of me poured two-thirds of her rum into the little wooden barrel. She saw me watching and laughed. "Sorry, you're not allowed to do this. Members only!" We went through a doorway and found ourselves in a small flagstone courtyard surrounded by a few plants at ground level and a balcony one story up. We arranged ourselves in a large, somewhat ragged circle.

Conrad, the proprietor of a local restaurant and the master of ceremonies, began by asking for everyone to introduce their guests, of which there were six. Mike introduced us, mentioned *Hawk* and our sailing background. The enthusiastic tinkling of water glass against rum glass followed the introduction of each guest. Then Conrad read from a ledger-sized, tattered book describing the events of the Admiralty from that day in history. A French fort had been taken in some remote island 150 years ago or so and the British had gone away with the French colors - that brought a round of "Hear, hear" and glass tinkling. A British Man of War had been sunk in another year, which raised a series of groans.

Then Conrad set aside the book and raised his water glass and silence descended. "Clean your palates," he called. Everyone took a sip of water. He raised the rum glass, and we all recited, "To a willing foe and sea room... and the Queen, God bless her!" I downed my rum in several unladylike gulps. Within an hour I wondered how anyone could do this 20 days out of 30 and continue to function. Once was enough for me!

Fair winds, Beth and Evans s/v Hawk