Our first order of business was to relocate ourselves in Freeman's Bay when we invited our friend and fellow Tottie to join us for dinner on Wednesday. It was to be a simple meal of ginger pumpkin soup with bakes and a salad. On Wednesday afternoon, I made the soup...only I couldn't get the burner to stay alight. This happens when there's a wind. I swear, close the galley window, and start again. No luck. Hmmmm.
"WW, do we have propane?"
"Let me check."
We told Len at the tot that his feast had become moveable and would be delayed a day. He credited us with creative ways of ditching dinner guests. I have to add that we successfully served dinner to Len on Thursday and he claimed to enjoy it.
The following day, Jordy arrived during the afternoon. He was dragged off to the tot and then we dined at Johnny Coconat's. The following morning, we provisioned and sailed off to Green Island. Overnight we experienced a brief but torrential downpour, the first in over a month.
The next morning we headed off to Barbuda, leaving Green Island via the Spithead Channel. This is a very narrow twisting serpent of water just deep enough for passage, with nasty coral heads and reefs on either side. Most of the charts for the Caribbean carry warnings that much of the information dates back to the 1700s and 1800s and may be unreliable. So I watched the charts and the nav station while WW watched the sea. I ended up standing on the bow keeping an eye out for bad things while WW yelled out our depth. It was at 2 metres we got nervous (we draw just less than a metre). Our voices became somewhat shrill at 1.8 metres. By 1.5 metres, we weren't being at all nice to each other. Finally, the depth started to increase and we brushed the sweat from our fevered brows.
We motored to Barbuda in no wind and a combination of NE and SW swells. We arrived at Gravenor Bay on the south of Barbuda, a lovely calm area protected by reefs and requiring a bit of care to enter and leave. A dolphin swam by as we prepared to anchor.
Barbudan welcoming committee.It was rainy and cool (24C). Jordy and WW went ashore in search of George Jeffrey, local lobster fisherman and guide. A call to his home had said he was in the area.
Jordy ashore at Gravenor Bay, Barbuda.In a somewhat surreal incident, they found two men digging post holes by the road while tending a boiling pot of lobsters. Both were wearing little more than underwear. When asked if they knew where Mr. Jeffrey might be found, one of them replied, "That's me."
As a result of this fortuitous meeting, we dined on a most succulent lobster salad and were all set for a taxi tour on the morrow.
WW gets at the meat; shells being saved for a bisque.
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