With St. John and Jost Van Dyke covered, our next destination to discover was Virgin Gorda (the fat virgin). We had a great sail from Peter Island to the Bitter End, Tom took a go at the helm and sailed Gaia close hauled like he’d been doing it for months. In the afternoon we anchored in the calm waters of Eustatius and just right of the famous shallow snorkeling. Since Saba Rock was only a cables throw away we dinghy-ed over for the cocktails and tarpon feeding. Saba Rock has such a relaxed vibe, it’s where all the cool dinghies go to hang out and their owners sit idly on the dock drinking their high-priced cocktails watching kite surfers perform jaw-dropping tricks.

We learned there was a full moon party in Trellis Bay and made sail for Tortola to have our own experience in the full moon revelry. We arrived at Trellis Bay… and it was packed, more aptly defined as a sh!t show or a fog of boat masts – it was tightly anchored. Let’s put it this way; being between a rock and hard place was beginning to look roomy. We slowly and carefully meandered the premise, in hopes to find something the other 10 boats in front of us didn’t and sure enough! Winner! On the outer edge close to shore! We surreptitiously motored over, I felt like the submarine commander in WW II b&w movie trying to creep along enemy lines. There were hungry sailboats in every direction eager to jump on a mooring ball or sink their anchor in any ole patch of open water. We maneuvered to the cramped but unoccupied pocket and crept to a halt to anchor. This is what we had been training for. These past six months of hand signals, strong currents, timing, placement…. after 2 tries we anchored in just the right area. We were golden! We watched as other sad boaters skimmed past our transom with forlorn looks of despair at not finding anything.

We decided to grab a drink before dinner at this small island in the middle of the harbor. All the reviews made mention of young English hipsters who ran the bar. Of course we had to investigate these ‘youngens’. We arrived seconds after the bartender opened for business and had our first round of margs. We meandered to the outside and found a spacious yard with giant jenga, swings made from crates to lounge on, cornhole, fussball, every hipster/frat outdoor game you could think of, it was adult recess.

The moon began to rise as the sun sunk beyond the horizon, when we saw flames on the beach we took that as our calling. Live festive music was playing at full blast upon arrival and our friends Megs & Tom just happened to be sitting not 10 feet away from the dinghy dock and almost done with their first round of drinks. We roamed the beach and perused the art village and all the amazing steel creations and designs. There was a family friendly area and fires ablaze every hundred yards or so. There were several dance parties & jumby walkers spread out but the main attraction were these sculptures stuffed with paper and lit on fire. It was the Burning Man of the Virgin Islands! Far more tame but far more accessible for us. We enjoyed our 2 EC red stripes and danced until Megs & Tom and Nils & Lisa had to catch the last free ferry back across the channel. It was fun festive and lively. Definitely check it out if you’re in the area.

Day 4 was the day I had been waiting for, a visit to The Baths! You’re not allowed to bring your dinghy to shore, instead there are bouys to attach your tender and then you’re expected to swim ashore. All guidebooks mention the swim is not for the weak. Ok, but I’m young and fit and most guidebooks tell me a 3mile hike in the VIs is considered difficult, which I politely disagree with. I took the warnings with a grain of salt. Don’t do what I did the swim can be difficult. There are surges that roll through and crash after the steep dropoff on the beach. What our guidebook failed to mention is the red flags on the beach signaled there are stronger than usual wave conditions. Great. We had snorkels and flotation devices, we all made it in but not without an exhausting fight.

Finally! Our efforts finally paid off in the form of this magnificent and wild scenery. We found the path for tourists and quickly found our way up and away from the path.

We spent the night in Spanish Town and found the ocean front restaurants to be a bit pricey and with a less than local feel. We ended up talking to a driver in an open-aired bus who dropped us off at one of his favorite restaurants. It was a perfect mom n pop restaurant with outdoor seating and ridiculously good bbq. Yay! Does life get better? Sailing, adventuring, bouldering, friends, bbq, and fresh passion juice.

We spent the night in a marina because the swells were just too rowdy in the anchorage for top-heavy Gaia to spend the night. And the following day we had a  great sail to Norman Island. We tried racing a catamaran but once they realized how to  use the entire main sail we were toast. Norman Island in the afternoon was fairly crowded. The wind had picked up and the few anchoring spots were filled with other boats. We looped around the vast mooring field for the second time as rain began to pour. It was then a voice from heaven (or the mist) called out to Gaia. ‘There’s a mooring behind you!’ Sure enough, an off-colored mooring was indeed bobbing helplessly in the wind. Mike tried his best to keep the bow steady in line with the mooring ball pendant and I cumbersomely hitched a dock line with Tom and cleated it off securing Gaia for the night. I came back slightly chilled and soaking wet. Danise informed me there were gusts up to 30 knots while I was on the bow. I nodded my head feeling a little badass that we had just secured Gaia so effortlessly. It really does make all the difference having another pair of hands on deck.