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  • Day 185

    The Baths!

    March 23, 2016 in British Virgin Islands ⋅ ⛅ 27 °C

    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.
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