Part 6: Cooper Island to Roadtown
Saturday, I woke to the wake and resultant thunk of a passing ferry. Goats ashore were baa-ing. T and I made a breakfast of scrambled eggs with onions and cheese and English muffins. Our melon had gone bad. Just as we were ready to sail, we spied 3 dolphins playing in the harbour, which we tried to capture on film. After breakfast, Rick and T went ashore to buy ice and get rid of trash.
The plan for the day was to stop in Soper's Hole to explore and buy some lunch, and then to sail on to Peter Island for our last night at sea. With light winds, we tried to sail (we even sailed off our mooring), but light winds ultimately forced us to motor into West End/Soper's Hole. We went into Soper's Hole, a small group of pastel-painted Victorian buildings housing shops, restaurants, small businesses and the Sunsail charter base. We spent some time exploring and taking gloriously bright photos. It was sunny and hot, and many businesses were closed for lack of electricity. Power had been restored to Road Town and Cane Garden Bay, and half-power had reached Soper's Hole the day before. However, a transformer had blown, and now they had no idea when things would be back to normal.
there were no moorings and it looked like we were in for some weather. Instead, we decided to head for Manchioneel Bay on Cooper Island. The beach was supposed to be quite attractive (though bordered with poisonous manchioneel trees), there was a beach club, and there were moorings.
As we made slow progress down the Sir Francis Drake Channel, we noted the storm clouds to the east over Virgin Gorda. As we approached Manchioneel Bay, we dropped the sails and prepared to moor. We had some difficulty grabbing a mooring ball, but were ultimately successful. The rain came and went, and really cooled things off. In between showers, we went ashore to the Cooper Island Beach Club, a cute assortment of pink, green, yellow and purple buildings. The bar was open, built of concrete block, and painted pink. Simon, the star bartender, served up a round of drinks, including his specialty coladas. I had a mango colada. It was sweet, smooth and cool.
Rick and I walked the length of the beach, shell seeking. Unfortunately, the beach, though attractive, did not lend itself to swimming since there was slimy grass just a few yards offshore. While we walked, Jeff, Kevin and T sought advice from the group at the bar regarding a nice, quiet beach within dinghy distance. In the meantime, Simon mixed up another original drink, which I suggested he call Mother's Milk (since it was white and creamy). Though we wouldn't be staying for dinner, we would try to come for drinks afterwards. Simon said he would be open until 2100.
We then dinghied around the point in search of a better beach. None looked very promising, but we pulled into one of them anyway. The rocky bottom made landing the dinghy treacherous. Swimming was a challenge too. The bottom was not only rocky, but it dropped off quickly. Nevertheless, while Kevin and Jeff climbed the rocks, Rick and I took a dip and, per our custom, lost our swimsuits. Then we called Jeff and Kevin back, so we could return to the boat before the sun set.
consisted of yogurt and granola. We completed a quick sweep of the boat to collect linens, belongings, trash. Today, we all skipped the sunscreen, which had succeeded mainly in making us feel slimy the days we applied it.
Manchioneel Bay was behind us by about 0830. Storm clouds and rainbows preceded us on a very slow sail back to Road Town. As we neared the harbour, we dropped the sails for the last time. Per instructions, we radioed the Moorings for docking directions. First they told us to dock at Slip 2 on the A Dock, but someone was already there. Then they said to try the end of C Dock, but there was a 57 foot catamaran there. So they told us to dock behind the cat. Just as we'd finished moving the fenders and made our approach to the dock, a large cabin cruiser pulled in ahead of us. They wanted diesel and didn't care about us. Meanwhile, it was nearing 11:30 and we still had lots to do.
Finally, Moorings crew came out in a dinghy and helped us into an empty slip on C Dock. Meanwhile, Debbie met us to de-brief and help us finish up our cruise. It was hot, sunny and steamy as we off-loaded unused food, fins, trash, linens and our luggage. That completed, we headed for the showers to clean up on firm ground. What bliss it was to have an endless supply of warm running water. But the ground continued to rock and sway underfoot.
After my shower, I headed to the gift shop to buy a cap and some postcards. The boys straggled down later. we ordered our last Mariner Inn meal. We also worked out the rest of our bills (including phone) over lunch, having done our charter evaluation on the boat. Because we received credits for not using Leroy, we had a credit balance, notwithstanding our extra charges. Jeff managed to squeeze it out of the desk staff in cash.
After lunch, it was time to catch our airport van. We got to the airport in due course but found that American Airlines' computer was down. So they accepted our old tickets without question, and told us to sit any old place we wanted on the plane. The flight was running late, and we had some mild concern that we would miss our flight to Baltimore. On the way over to San Juan, we got gorgeous views of Tortola and Marina Cay, as well as Jost Van Dyke and Sandy Spit. More depressing, however, was our view of Puerto Rico, which suffered a far worse fate than the BVI. Trees were blown down or defoliated. Roofs were peeled back like the tops of sardine cans. Debris was everywhere.
More evidence of destruction was seen at San Juan Airport, where all computers were down. We had manual passport checks, saw no working video display monitors, and checked in and received seat assignments by hand at American.
Curiously, despite (or maybe because of) the lack of computers, our journey through the airport was uncommonly fast and smooth. We even managed to be seated in the same row. Finally, we are aloft and on our way to Baltimore, where it is 93 degrees, hotter than anything we experienced all week in the BVI.
So, what do we take back with us after this trip? Certainly, Hurricane Georges made this the most memorable vacation we've ever had. Not just the storm itself, but how well people bore up during and after. The Moorings staff were awesome, professional and patient. They kept us safe, calm and reasonably comfortable during the storm. Afterwards, they helped us get out on our boat and out of the marina a day sooner than I'd hoped. Throughout the islands, people were kind and generous. Mooring fees were waived at Norman Island and North Sound. Hurricane special prices on t-shirts and special events at Bitter End. Valiant efforts to provide drink and food. Shops kept open notwithstanding heat and darkness. Life going on over the noise of generators, or in spite of no electricity. Then, all of the characters we encountered . . .
Chantal: It's French, but I am not.
K.B. and his Norwegians, who were everywhere we went, until we left them behind at the Bight. Bravado and vast experience. Possereg!
The Tennessee gals, who never left their room without a handbag. Dana and her Valium, make-up, curling iron and a fresh change of clothes every few hours. None of these ladies succumbed to Jeff's charms.
Captain Leroy, with his "biled" herbs and remedies, his red-lined charts, his war (injury) stories, and list of semi-impressive charter guests (Herve Villechaize, soap opera actors, naked stewardesses). He knew his boats and the waters, but we were certainly glad to be rid of him.
Gordo and the gang at Bitter End, who happily poured drinks and tolerated our drunken giddiness.
Let's not forget us, the crew of Braveheart. Everyone pitched in and did his share of steering, cranking in sheets and halyards, swabbing the decks, making and cleaning up after meals, keeping the cooler stocked. We showed that we could handle a 46 foot boat.. Best of all, we laughed all week, even when we were bored and impatient, stuck in a single hotel room with no air-conditioning, even when we stank.
Most importantly, these beautiful islands of which we've only scratched the surface. The dazzling and nearly empty beaches. The delights of the Baths, especially in low season. Multi-colored gingerbread houses. Riots of bougainvillea, hibiscus, oleander. Impossibly steep hills and breathtaking vistas. Blue water. Honor bars and beach shacks.
I can't wait to go back!
