So what do you do on Christmas Day on a boat, after having exchanged wishes with friends and family as much as your onboard communication system will allow and told yourself that, since you haven't had the chance to enjoy a slice of panettone exactly on the 25th, you're therefore allowed to have one or more at any time during 2020? You set sail to Anguilla.

We left Trellis Bay, where we spent a few days before Christmas after leaving Nanny Cay and staying at Marina Cay for a night - while there, a bare boat passenger in the water was almost run over by a small local ferry, which generated a very animated discussion between "victim", his friends and the "perpetrator": was the ferry coming in too aggressively or was the swimmer way inside the ferry lane? Was there an actual ferry lane, if so it was unmarked, etc. My rule: always stick close to your boat if you're swimming off it, especially in a busy area where the nautical rules the road are... a bit vague.

We cast one more look at the trashed boats on the shore in Trellis, breathed in once more the "Irma was here" atmosphere still imbuing these islands two years and four months later, and sailed to Virgin Gorda, to clear C&I in Spanish Town. While there, a very nice officer took the opportunity to teach the Captain the correct pronunciation of Anguilla: An-gwi-la, as opposed to his more Spanish-style "An-ghi-la". Interestingly, in Italian it's pronounced "An-gwi-lla", double L and all, very close to the original name. Anguilla means eel, so the other Italian word that comes to mind is "capitone", which is a traditional Christmas Eve meal in several regions. To call it "Capitone Island" however lacks a certain poetry. But I digress.

After completing the formalities we got back to the boat and let enough time go by so that we'd depart to arrive in Anguilla early in the morning of December 26th. That, at least, was the plan. With winds stronger than forecasted we hit speeds in the 20s and managed to arrive exactly at o' dark thirty of the 26th. Cap'n doesn't like to arrive into harbors in complete darkness, partly due to the possible presence of various objects or impediments at surface level whose detection may constitute a challenge in the absence of daylight (in Captainese it sounded more like "There can be all sort of sh*t floating on the water and it's hard to see it late at night"). So with plenty of caution, and, believe it or not, without plenty of coffee, after stowing away the sails we made our way niiiiice and sloooowly into Road Bay, where we eventually anchored.

A funny thing happened on the way to Anguilla shortly after we got underway. We salvaged a dinghy gone adrift, David at the helm and yours truly making her best Queequog imitation using a boat hook instead of a harpoon. Specifically:

1. The sea wasn't exactly what you would call calm.
2. We got close to the dinghy, that was floating on our port side.
3. I managed to grab the dinghy's line using the boat hook.
4. I threw the boat hook back behind me while cleating the dinghy to Boundless.
5. Instead of landing on deck, the boat hook bounced on the genoa sheet and ended up over the side (what can I say, I failed at backwards javelin in school). We were just about to delve into considerations about how in life you win some you lose some, when it occurred to me that if Cap jumped off the boat and into the dinghy - closer to where he was standing and now securely cleated - he might have been able to pick up the floating boat hook, as it was still floating within reach.
6. The Captain, therefore, performed his best jump since his days as a stuntman in Hollywood (you didn't know that, did you) and recovered the boat hook.
7. With everybody - and everything - back on board again, we proceeded towards Aurelius, the beautiful sloop at anchor not far from us, owner of... Aurelius Minor (the dinghy), whose loss had gone completely unnoticed. After we blew the horn to signal our approaching and followed it with a friendly "Would you guys like a dinghy?", you could see the crew gradually transitioning from really surprised to thankful to... a little embarrassed (all this took place while their guests were relaxing and savoring appetizers on deck). Rather than get too close to their boat and pass the dinghy to them, as the sea was still a bit rough, we handed it to Aurelius's captain, who previously jumped in the water and swam to it to retrieve it. A little gift from Santa Boundless, Merry Christmas ho ho ho!

No further "drama" to report. Anguilla, with its lively holiday destination feel, really nice people and powdery white beaches gave us the opportunity to rest, enjoy the scenery, in particular during a dinghy ride along 70-foot colorful cliffs textured with grottoes where the bright calls of local birds echo ad infinitum and clusters of gravity-defying round cacti in Little Bay and rig a temporary replacement for our broken anchor roller (just so you don't think it's all fun and relaxation down here!). For those of you unfamiliar with such a fine item, this is the tool over which the anchor chain slides up and down any time you lay it or pick it up. Having fulfilled its duties from Nova Scotia, to Newfoundland to here, - and having been on the boat long before we bought her - it decided to retire but forgot to give us notice.

We decided to skip visiting the marine parks off Anguilla, like Sandy Island and Prickly Pear Cays. The weather wasn't really that nice during our stay, which would have meant poor underwater visibility for snorkeling. Also, the daily cruising permit is $355 for vessels over 20 tons (we're 25). A good thing in a way, as the stiff fees prevent these frail and irreplaceable oceanic gems from getting overcrowded. We would contribute to the local economy in other ways for this time...

... for example investing in the local culinary experience: our taste buds were totally satisfied by meals at "simple-is-best" Johnno in Road Harbour and Da Vida, a quintessential beach venue offering excellent food and drinks, great view, as well as chairs, umbrellas and other playa-menities in Crocus Bay.

A solid schtomp away from the waterfront to burn the acquired calories revealed, on one hand, more of the "Irma was is still here" vibe and on the other one, lavish reconstruction efforts aimed at boosting the tourist business first, like the Ce Blue resort, a sharp contrast with the general disrepair just a block away from it. Hopefully all the inhabitants of Anguilla will get to benefit from tourism money!

And now, time to go again. Boundless gets a little restless at the anchor after a while... St.Martin-ho! And to the Gallery y'all!