It was so much fun to welcome Matthew back aboard True North and offer a much different experience from his Caledonian Canal visit; much warmer, hopefully less work (certainly less line handling), and periods of blue water sailing instead of lots of motoring. It was Matt's Birthday, and he had arrived with a typical mild winter cold. The warm sunshine would be a good cure, but we decided to take the first day somewhat easy, with a trip to Pigeon Island National Landmark and Fort. However, in classic Ryan fashion, what started as a casual walk around the grounds to labeled ruins and historical sites, soon became a quest to reach the tallest peak in the park. A small dirt/rock trail led to a hot scramble to the peak in the midday sun (the last few yards I hung back and instead watched a centipede with multiple bright red legs). From the lookout Matt spied the real trail to the fort (a much more leisurely one) and we headed in that direction through the blissful shade of old trees. A paved walkway led to a ladder into the fort ruins and offered a spectacular view of the surrounding Rodney Bay area. We didn't stay long as there was no shade and all the climbing had made us very thirsty.

We made our way towards the touristy beach where cruise ship passengers were taking in the sites, and several restaurants were located so we treated ourselves to local fish fritters and cold drinks. After returning to the boat, we decided to cool off with a swim in the bay, taking the dinghy out through the pass. And had pizza and cake for Birthday Dinner.

The next morning we checked out of the marina to sail a short 9 miles to Marigot Bay when we had our first experience with "boat boys" who help tie lines to their mooring balls. Surprisingly, they come fairly far out from the shore in their small boats to ask where you are headed, tell us the name of their helpers. It was a squally day, we wanted to be in the inner more protected harbor, got help tying up and paid our helper for his efforts. It was now the day before Christmas Eve and as we wanted to leave the next day early for St Vincent and the Grenadines, we visited the Customs and Port Authority offices to check out of the country. We wandered the small shopping area a bit, had a drink at the local restaurant and we forgot to close all hatches! Our beds got a good soaking, but quickly dried in the heat. With so much rain around we made dinner on the boat and a series of peddlers of various food and gifts motored by hoping to sell us something. Relenting, I purchased bananas from one person and a pricey pineapple from another so I would not feel like Scrooge on the eve of Xmas.

At first light (before 6 am) on Christmas Eve we left for Bequia, about 68 miles away. Weather predictions had us motoring a lot but instead we sailed most the way and Matt got a taste of true ocean sailing as we passed between islands and the steeper ocean waves made the boat start rolling from side to side, the air hazy and obscuring the tall volcanoes of St Vincent. The sea finally settled down after we were in the lee of the big island, and we enjoyed a beautiful sail into Bequia arriving in the late afternoon.
The large anchorage was packed with boats for the holiday, and we picked a spot at the back and tried to anchor. And tried to anchor 4 more time in four different spots! We looked like rookies. We did not realize how poor the holding was, consisting of dead coral and hard packed sand, rocks, so when we pulled hard to set the anchor (as we always do) it would pop up the rock holding us in place and we'd start skipping across the sea bed. We finally learned to just let the anchor settle, pull back gently while being the last boat in line in case we dragged, and set our anchor alarms. We spent a couple unsettled nights at anchor, but stayed put.

Mike and I went in to a quiet town at 9 am to clear into a new country, and afterwards, Matt and I returned to walk around the charming town as it woke for Christmas morning. We found an open dive shop and purchased swim fins for Matt. He and Mike went snorkeling to a spot recommended by the dive shop and saw a eel, and a host of other fish. We had a nice fish and rice Christmas dinner on board, opened presents from the kids under the felt tree Matt brought from Teddy and Caramia, with twinkle lights in the cockpit.

Tabago Cays was the next destination, a marine sanctuary consisting of a couple small islands surrounded by a large horseshoe shaped reef, and where you can swim with turtles. Boats can anchor or tie to mooring balls close to the sea, protected from ocean waves by the reef but not from wind. As the weather was a bit unsettled we chose to tie to a mooring ball behind the protection of a small island and took the dinghy instead behind the reef to snorkel and find turtles. Because the sea was pretty lumpy from squalls we didn't venture towards the main reef but swam around a small island with plenty of coral and fish and several turtles of all sizes. For a price, there are beach barbecues offered in the area, but the night was unsettled and as a large charter cat anchored too close to our bow in the dark, so we didn't feel comfortable leaving the boat. Instead we bought a fresh caught grouper from a fisherman, who filleted it for me when I confessed to not knowing how...but I closely watched what he did. We spent a next lazy day snorkeling around the boat, and Mike used the underwater hookah and weight belt to change anodes under the boat, a job we had been anxious to do since leaving Las Palmas.

Sailing further south, and negotiating a narrow cut through the reef, we had a short sail to Union Island, Clifton Harbor. Everyone said how charming the area was, but we had quite a sobering shock from the utter destruction that Hurricane Beryl inflicted on this island. The harbor had been cleared of boats, and the park mooring balls secure behind the reef. But when we went ashore, the town was in shambles. There was perhaps one "store" maybe 5x7 open for business selling some groceries and fresh produce, and several people trying to earn a living selling veggies and fruit, liquor, from carts in the street. One old man just asked us for what we could spare, and talked longingly of his time in Boston. We bought something from most people. And there was one open restaurant on the little reef protecting the mooring balls, so we went there for lunch and had a fabulous meal of fish and fries. Our hearts were heavy as the locals told us how they felt forgotten by their own government.

Just a few miles distance, the island of Petite St Vincent beckoned as our Norwegian friends on Blue Marlin (Idunn, Rune and their two daughters, Hedda and Marita) anchored there. Normally a closed island to cruisers, Beryl had decimated the upscale resort. Usually they charge $100 per person to just step foot on the island, but now one lone security guard patrols the island. Mike and Matt took the dinghy to Mopion Island, a little circular bit of land with a picturesque bench and palm umbrella on it to snorkel and explore. Later we swam ashore to walk the beach, and planned a beach picnic dinner ashore with our fiends, but ended up on their boat as the security guard got more aggressive in chasing people away. What a treat awaited us on Blue Marlin as they served us fresh lobster they caught that day on the reef, part of an eclectic meal of our lemon pesto pasta, lobster and sausages topped off with chocolate from Las Palmas. Idunn and Rune will continue on to the Pacific but we hope to cross paths again...perhaps in Norway-still so many places to visit there. Swedish friends on Aglaia also shared the anchorage and we visited over an afternoon beer with Anders, exchanged plans and knew our paths would cross many times in the future as they too are eventually headed to Herrington Harbor North in Annapolis.

The time came that we needed to think about returning north with one week down and one week to go in Matt's time with us, and sailing north was going to be a bit harder, sportier than heading south. So we left our anchorage at first light again, aiming back towards Bequia to spend the New Year in the anchorage.