British Virgin Islands (1993)
The Cruise of the Lucky Lion
Monday, March 8. Our vacation really started when we met Jill and Trevor in the departure lounge at the San Juan airport and flew together with them on the final leg of our journey to Tortola. It was already dusk when we took the now familiar jitney ride up and down the narrow, coastal road to the marina where our ship, Luck Lion, awaited. We unpacked our bags, stowed our provisions and climbed into our bunks for our first night on board our floating home
The Lucky Lion is an eight year old, 38 foot, Bennetau yacht with a main lounge and two cabins (and heads) fore and aft. After three earlier cruises in similar boats, we could just as well been back on Scalawag (1885), Vitamin K (1988) or Amadeus (1991). It was like coming home.
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The Crew of the Lucky Lion Jill and Trev at Green Cay
Tuesday, March 9 After the mandatory refresher instructions on the boats most intimate parts: engine, pumps, electronics, riggings and heads, we headed out of Tortola’s busy harbor and into the Sir Francis Drake Channel, the five-mile-wide waterway protected by the Virgin Islands to its north and south. The Channel is one of the Caribbean’s finest sailing grounds with calm, clear seas, constant trade winds and a string of islands which are never out of sight. When you can see your destination across a clear stretch of water, there’s little need for sextant, compass or satellite navigation. All you have to worry about are occasional shallow, reefs or sudden puffs of wind. Compared to Lake Superior and many other sailing destinations, sailing the Virgins is a breeze.
We set our course for a brisk, beat to Norman Island - a sea trial for our veteran crews. (Well, it was Trevor’s first sailing experience but, of course, he comes from a seafaring heritage which includes the likes of Drake, Hornblower and Bly and adapted quickly to life under sail. (One week before the mast, as it were)
We dropped our anchor in the Bight, a well-protected cove and overnight anchorage to a dozen other yachts of various sizes. We took our dingy out to nearby Treasure Point where we snorkeled and explored the deep caves which provided the setting for Robert Lewis Stevenson’s book, "Treasure Island". At sunset, we dingied to the good ship, William T. Thornton, a hundred year old, wooden schooner converted into a floating restaurant and anchored there with us in the cove, where we unwound with one of their famous "pain killers" and dined on West Indian food.
Wednesday, March 10. After a morning swim, we set sail for Salt Island for a rendezvous with a scuba diving boat for a dive down to the wreck of the US Rhone, a mail steamer that sunk off shore in a storm in 1867 with the loss of most of her crew. Unfortunately, the dive boat was delayed so we chose to snorkels over the wreck site instead. The Rhone lies in two parts in 30-80 feet of water and is easily visible from the surface.
The wind remained strong (15 - 20 knots) and the seas heavy (5-6 feet) so we headed for the shelter of Manchioneel Bay on Cooper Island, where we set two anchors and popped the cork on a bottle of chilled champagne to celebrate Jill’s birthday. With Trevor working his magic in the galley and me on deck tending the charcoal grill, we prepared a birthday dinner worthy of the occasion . . . and then watched the sunset over the islands to the strains of Vivaldi . . . while Val retold the happy story of Jill’s birth thirty three years ago.
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Celebrating Jill's Birthday
Thursday, March 11. Our Thursday morning destination was The Baths on the southwest tip of Virgin Gorda Island. The Baths are an unusual formation of large, granite boulders piled on top of one another at the edge of the water. Where the sea washes in between the huge rocks, large pools have been created where shafts of light reflect on the water creating dramatic effects. The adjacent beach is white and sandy and the snorkeling was excellent.
We discovered that we had lost half of our fresh water supply due to a leaky shower hose, so we headed up to Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbor to top off our fresh water tanks and replenish our ice supply . It’s always a bit of a challenge moving such a large boat in and out of a crowded marina but our fine crew handled it magnificently. We anchored for the night in fifteen feet of water at a sandy beach just outside the yacht harbor.
Friday, March 12 Our longest day’s sail took us from Virgin Gorda, past the Dog Islands and along the north coast of Tortola Island to Cane Garden Bay. The trailing winds were strong and we hummed along at speeds which at times were in excess of eleven knots . . . for one of our most exciting rides. Can Garden Bay is a picture postcard setting with a white, palm fringed beach stretching the entire length of the bay. White run is still produced at the local distillery from the sugar cane which grows on the nearby hillsides. We grilled fish on the stern barbecue and opened a bottle of wine. Soon the twinkling lights of the distant islands were mingling with a sky full of stars as brilliant and hypnotic as any I’ve ever seen.
Saturday, March 13. We left Cane Garden Bay in mid-morning and sailed north to Green Cay, a small uninhabited island, where Jill, Val and Trevor went ashore to do some shelling while I stood the anchor watch and prepared lunch for their return. From Green Cay, we sailed to the nearby Great Harbor of Jost Van Dyke, a hilly island that is home to fewer than two hundred residents. The town consists of a couple of wooden snack bars and restaurants and a two--story, white building that serves as a customs office, post office and police station. We again set a double anchor for our final night at sea. In celebration, we went ashore for dinner a Foxy’s Tamarind Bar - a famous watering hole for cruising yachts over the years - for a barbecue and some island music.
Sunday, March 14 After a lazy morning of swimming and sunning, we headed back to Road Town Harbor via the West End Straight. The winds were strong so we sailed without the jib for most of the crossing. (It was only after we were back in port that we discovered that the strong winds were probably a part of the storm system which had devastated the Eastern Coast of the United Sttes over the weekend. Without radio, TV or newspapers, we were totally oblivious that the "Blizzard of the Century" had been wreaking havoc a thousand miles to the north.)
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Under Sail on the Lucky Lion
Just before entering port, we set Trevor adrift in the dingy with the camera to take some action pictures of the Lucky Lady as we sailed around him. He got some great shots, one of which I’ve had enlarged, framed and hung on the wall as a wonderful souvenir of another great cruise.
Monday, March 15. We were up early to pack our bags, inventory the gear and wash down the boat. Val and I left for the airport in mid-morning leaving Jill and Trevor behind for a couple final days in the BVI before they flew off for England and on to Africa to seek their fortune.
As our plane climbed over the sparkling, blue waters, we could look back down on the yachts darting across the waters and at anchor in some of the same harbors we had just visited . . . and with a little imagination, we could even see Jill and Trevor on the deck of the Lucky Lion waving to us as we headed home.