As we sit at the dock in St Lucia, in Rodney Bay Marina, the long days and constant movement of being at sea feels in many ways like a long ago memory.

The timing of our arrival worked out miraculously well in that we crossed the "finish line" in the late afternoon, making it easy too see our surroundings, and we had a beautiful upwind sail to the line.

After so many thousands of miles downwind it was fun to have the boat sailing her favorite point of sail as a photographer supplied by the ARC snapped many photos from his dinghy.


As we pulled into the marina to our slip, people clapped and cheered from their tables at the nearby restaurants, and the ARC staff and local representatives arrived with small glasses of rum punch, and a beautiful basket of fresh fruit.
Mike quickly jumped off the boat to try and get the customs and immigration formalities done but because it was Sunday late afternoon, everything was closed. We were allowed to get off the boat but stay within the marina complex, so the plan was to finally give the cook the night off after 21 days! Friends dropped by who had finished just hours ahead and we all found a nice local restaurant where we shared stories and relief at being here in the beautiful tropical evening.

Then we all slept well on a still boat.
The next morning Mike was one of many people in line at the customs office, rarely a pleasant experience, but he managed to get through it as we worked to iron out one missed step in the online process. Then came several required stops to health authorities, marina and ARC offices and we were officially now cleared into St Lucia. Instead of resting, we immediately dove into getting the boat cleaned inside and out, organized and laundry started. Everything was salty, dusty, including boat, clothes, towels, and sheets and my little laundry machine was the star of the day, working for 2 days straight!



Pelle, Bruce and Mike even pulled all carpet off the boat, shampooed and rinsed on the docks, hung to dry in the hot sun. It took 2 solid days of work but the boat smells and looks fabulous. They also worked to get our dinghy back up and running, made especially hard as the salt water had frozen our lock we had put on the engine. The reward was a trip out of the marina to the beautiful beach to swim in the warm ocean, a first for Pelle.
That morning a funky little boat motored by selling fresh veggies and fruit and I flagged it down as we were down to onions and garlic. I went a little crazy and bought a sampler of almost everything.


Oranges, bananas, passionfruit, star fruit, lemons, limes, green beans, squash and fresh baked banana bread, coconut cookies and fresh squeezed papaya and orange juice, plus ready to drink rum punch!

Breakfast the next morning felt like we were at a fine hotel.

The few days we had in port together we continued to work on boat projects and the guys did some exploration of the immediate surrounding area (not really a walkable area to town), and we attended a few sponsored sundowners,

walked the docks to admire boats and excitedly chatted with other crews we had befriended and compared stories.
We tried the various restaurants but a highlight was Bruce searching for a local restaurant then treating us to a fabulous, memorable dinner at Chef Bobby's.


Amazingly he had flying fish on the menu and we tried a sample of the delicacy-who knew as we had pitched probably 30 of those guys back into the sea. To me, it tasted like fried smelt, which to anyone from the great lakes, is a real treat in season.

(This little guy flew through our galley window the last morning almost making it into the fry pan nearby!)
So when thinking back on our last week at sea, Mike remarked that the last week contained both his worst and best nights of the trip. His best night was the last night at sea when the full moon made the water sparkle, the boat quietly hummed along, the crew getting needed rest in the most still conditions we experienced in weeks, as we motor sailed with expected arrival in St Lucia the following day.


Dolphins visited the boat three times the next morning to welcome us!

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The worst night was the one before when an growing storm swallowed True North, expanding all the while with no escape for 5 very hard hours later. The storm was so big that Charlie had sent us a warning email in the early evening, a first of that nature.

He said there was no way to turn or outrun it and that it would have lots of rain with wind because of very high cloud banks. So Mike and I were in the cockpit as the storm arrived, taking its time on radar as the red blob consumed True North. The rain came in sheets with winds mostly around 30 knots, the sea kicking up tight waves that bounced the boat like she was a bouncing ball. We had tiny sails out and flew through the absolute black night, hoping no one was ahead of us, not on AIS, as that would end badly. We were both cold and middle of the night tired so we spelled each other for a bit to warm up, try to sleep, me going first. Mike finally went below as the storm showed just a hint of dividing, offering an opening to turn the boat towards an escape route. He went below and I continued to play dodge storm as the radar remarkably began to grown again with the new division threatening to swallow us once more. Finally the weather relented and led to a beautiful day and that perfect final night.
The last week the angry sea was replaced with slightly smaller waves, but still paced 7 seconds apart remaining close together and lumpy until we rounded the island, and the boat never stoped her rolling side to side. Our point of sail continued to be almost dead downwind and the waves pushed True North's back end, in a corkscrew motion. The forecast became trying to avoid a growing large area of no wind, and dodging squalls, some of which had lots of lightning, interspaced with sunshine and growing warmth. The butter was definitely melting!




With less wind the sails were less effective and we slowed down. We poled out our jib but frustratingly had to reef our main which when fully out made the jib snap and jerk and as it was the jib primarily pulling us to St Lucia. With so many angry squalls around cautious Marj balked against flying the big blue sail, which was not furling correctly anyway.
With Charlie's warning about the developing calm we started having morning meetings where Pelle calculated fuel consumed each day. How much was left in each tank was a bit of a guess in a moving boat with liquid sloshing around, but he's a numbers guy and conservatively guessed with Mike the rate at which we burned fuel under various circumstances. Pelle also calculated water consumption. We really only showered every 3rd-4th day until we were almost to St Lucia, as showering was an acrobatic endeavor. We had to charge batteries (boat in neutral) twice a day to keep systems running, but we never fully charged them to 100 percent unless the motor was on in gear. Water was made when the boat was charging to combine efforts. In the end we had plenty of fuel left so we could motor, or motor sail through the days of calm and had those reserves for dodging storms. And in the end, suffering a bit through the middle helped get us faster towards the goal.
I've said before that passage making is different than sailing for pleasure. You cannot chose your weather after a certain point, there is a lot of lost sleep, adjusting to a constantly moving, changing environment. But you can chose who you share the adventure, pain and pleasures with and we had a crew of three gentlemen, kind, funny people with various levels of experiences and skill sets all adding their unique perspective to our shared quest. Living together in a small boat is not always the easiest experience, and conquering fears and hard conditions makes it all the more difficult. We had lots of laughs, and a highlight each day was gathering together with dinner always in the cockpit, to laugh, tell stories, discuss the day and the evening sail plan. We are extremely proud of our crew for coming together, working hard, helping to get the boat safely to St Lucia. It is truly a once in a lifetime experience that we hope all will remember fondly. Thank you Bruce, Cecil, Pelle and especially True North.
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