On June 15, we'd reached our furthest point of travel from our start in Florida last January. We
turned around and, for the first time on our trip, started backtracking ... our destination: back to
the British Virgin Islands.
We'd always planned to end our voyage toward the end of June, returning to Coronado to spend the
summer there, and not coincidentally to leave the Caribbean before hurricane season got serious.
Dianne and the kids booked flights home on June 29. Our last week in the Caribbean as a family was
spent cruising with Gary and Lynn Nelson, Dianne's brother and sister-in-law, and her brother Bob, who
chartered a Moorings boat out of Tortola for the week. After that, Steve will stay on the boat for three
more weeks awaiting the Dockwise Yacht Transport ship that will load Dakota Rose in St. Thomas and
transport her to Ensenada, about 60 miles south of San Diego, whence we will pick her up.
We are returning to cruising grounds that are familiar to us as well as to those who have been
faithfully following our adventures through this website.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005: We cleared out of St. Barts after a final trip to the grocery store. Our new friends
Adrianne and Alexis met us at the dock to cruise with us around to Anse Colombier, on the northwestern tip of the
island; dad Dave planned to meet us there by driving their rental car up to the trailhead for the hike down to the
beach. We left Gustavia inner harbor around 10:30 in the morning, and were secured to a mooring in Colombier by
noon. We spent the afternoon snorkeling, swimming and diving off the boat, grilling hamburgers with corn-on-the-
cob for lunch. Jay dinghied them back to the beach for their long, uphill hike back to their car at about 4:00 that
afternoon, and we cast off from the mooring, setting sail for St. Maarten, at about 4:30.
We reached Philipsburg Harbor in about two hours. As we neared we saw three big cruise ships docked. One of the
three left when we were still a few miles away. We then had an ego-boosting experience as the two remaining ships
waiting patiently at their berths for us to pass, yielding the right-of-way to us as we sailed by them at a stately 4
knots. They wasted no time in leaving once we were clear. Judging from the flashes we saw from the ships, we're
probably in hundreds of overexposed snapshots as we presented a romantic seascape view to the passengers
crowded along the starboard rails, with Dakota Rose, sails up, drifting through clear blue water, the green hills of St.
Maarten and the setting sun behind us. Steve wanted us to add full moons to the view, but he was overruled,
probably a good thing.
Steve wanted to continue sailing to Simpsons Bay, another hour on, because he felt it would be a more protected
anchorage, but once again he was overruled, which this time was not a good thing. Philipsburg Harbor proved one
of the rolliest anchorages we'd been in on the entire trip. It was deceptive; the waves weren't particularly big, but
they were hitting us right on the beam and were of the exact length to set us rolling at our natural frequency. Well
after midnight Steve got up and spent about a half hour rigging a bridle to the anchor chain that turned us bow into
the waves, which calmed our motions down quite a bit and enabled us to get at least a few hours of sleep.
Thursday, June 16: We all woke up cranky. Dianne and Steve went into Philipsburg for one final walk up the main
shopping street, then we moved Dakota Rose to Simpsons Bay and a much calmer anchorage. We dinghied under
the drawbridge and up Simpsons Lagoon to Marigot for lunch, then spent the afternoon taking care of logistics ...
checking email and sending out mail from the Business Center at Simpsons Bay Marina, provisioning, and visiting
the surf shop where Jay had bought his skim board to get a box that he'll be able to use to pack it up for the trip
home. That evening Dianne and the kids went in to the movies while Steve stayed on the boat, cooking spaghetti
for dinner and resting up for the next morning's early departure.
Friday, June 17: Steve awoke at 3:00 am, raised the anchor, and got us underway for Virgin Gorda by 3:15. Once
we were clear of the harbor, he set a course for our waypoint, 76 miles to the northwest. The sky was clear, and
with the wind light and directly behind us for the entire trip, we motored with the jib up the entire way, giving us a
speed of 6 to 7 knots. Waves were also following us, so it was a much more comfortable ride than our sail across
the Anegada Passage in the other direction last April.
At sunrise we were joined by dolphins that stayed with us for over an hour. Grey, playful, and on the small side, we
wondered if they might be juveniles broken away from a larger school (pod?) for some wake surfing. They scooted
alongside the boat, played chicken-of-the-sea by darting just ahead of the onrushing bow, even jumped and did
back flips for us.
We picked up a mooring at Leverick Bay, North Sound, Virgin Gorda, at 4:15 that afternoon. That evening, the
resort had a party planned ... barbecue on the beach, with a live reggae/calypso band and the Mocco Jumbies,
Caribbean dancers on tall stilts wearing colorful, frilled costumes. We went in for the festivities, but didn't last too
much past 9:00 because we were tired from the day's sail.
Saturday, June 18: Steve hitched a ride into Spanish Town to clear us into BVI Customs and Immigration. We
spent the day hanging around the pool at Leverick Bay Resort, and did five loads of laundry. This took the better
part of the afternoon: with the low water pressure, the wash cycles took forever, and the air is so humid that it would
take two or even three runs through the dryer until everything was dry. While sitting at the beachside bar between
loads, we met a couple from San Francisco, Lauren Schwartz and Mill Nash, who were spending five days at the
Bitter End to celebrate Lauren's birthday (we won't reveal which one without a written, signed release!). We'd run
into them again the next day at Saba Rock, then join them at the Bitter End for sunset drinks.
Sunday/Monday, June 19/20: We pulled into the Leverick Bay fuel dock for diesel, gas and to fill our water tanks,
then motored across North Sound to anchor near the Bitter End Resort in about 50 feet of water. We stayed there
for two nights. Presaging an approaching tropical wave, the winds picked up to 20-25 knots, kicking up waves that
made snorkeling seem not so appealing. We lounged on a nearby beach, then in the evenings went in to watch a
couple of movies at the Bitter End outdoor theater. We had dinner at the Fat Virgin Cafe, near the Biras Creek
Resort. For some odd reason, Steve ordered their Monday dinner special, goat roti, which combined an odd meat
with one of his least favorite spices, curry, all wrapped in flatbread. We won't go into the results.
Late Monday afternoon, a Moorings catamaran pulled in right next to us, with what looked to be a single male
charter captain and six to eight very large, very white, very loud, very American, very middle-aged and very
uninhibited women aboard. While the captain retired discreetly to the front of their boat, the "gals" proceeded to
strip their clothes off and shower naked on the transom, soaping each other up, then frolicking in the water to rinse.
Steve remarked that he hadn't seen as impressive collection of boobs since he retired. To add insult to injury, they
were blasting Huey Lewis and the News through the anchorage at high volume. Dianne's opinion was that it was a
group of friends into the "Goddess" movement, which made some sense since they'd yell "I feeeel soooo freeeeeee
glub glub!!!!!" as they'd jump into the water, all naked and dimply and soapy and flipfloppy. Steve took matters in
hand (figuratively) by going to our foredeck and pointedly staring at them through binoculars; when he had their
attention, with broad, theatrical gestures he at least got them to turn down their music.
Tuesday, June 21: The wind continued to blow at 20 to 25 knots from the southeast. We made one last shopping
trip into the Bitter End, then raised anchor and sailed over to Trellis Bay, on Beef Island, adjacent to Tortola. Steve
and Jay finished reading A Merchant of Venice, Jay's Shakespeare assignment for his English course, and between
the two of them they actually seem to have made some sense out of it. It was a fairly uneventful day, some rain
came through with the tropical wave. We had dinner at the Last Resort, which sits on a small island ... really no
more than a large, flat rock ... in the middle of the bay. For those of you who have been here and have fond
memories, we're sad to report that the resident donkey has died, tho' his memory is kept alive on the staff's t-shirts.
Wednesday/Thursday, June 22/23: Back to Tortola, pulling into a guest dock at Moorings Base to await the
arrival of Gary, Lynn and Bob. Some very Tortola-typical vignettes:
turned around and, for the first time on our trip, started backtracking ... our destination: back to
the British Virgin Islands.
We'd always planned to end our voyage toward the end of June, returning to Coronado to spend the
summer there, and not coincidentally to leave the Caribbean before hurricane season got serious.
Dianne and the kids booked flights home on June 29. Our last week in the Caribbean as a family was
spent cruising with Gary and Lynn Nelson, Dianne's brother and sister-in-law, and her brother Bob, who
chartered a Moorings boat out of Tortola for the week. After that, Steve will stay on the boat for three
more weeks awaiting the Dockwise Yacht Transport ship that will load Dakota Rose in St. Thomas and
transport her to Ensenada, about 60 miles south of San Diego, whence we will pick her up.
We are returning to cruising grounds that are familiar to us as well as to those who have been
faithfully following our adventures through this website.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005: We cleared out of St. Barts after a final trip to the grocery store. Our new friends
Adrianne and Alexis met us at the dock to cruise with us around to Anse Colombier, on the northwestern tip of the
island; dad Dave planned to meet us there by driving their rental car up to the trailhead for the hike down to the
beach. We left Gustavia inner harbor around 10:30 in the morning, and were secured to a mooring in Colombier by
noon. We spent the afternoon snorkeling, swimming and diving off the boat, grilling hamburgers with corn-on-the-
cob for lunch. Jay dinghied them back to the beach for their long, uphill hike back to their car at about 4:00 that
afternoon, and we cast off from the mooring, setting sail for St. Maarten, at about 4:30.
We reached Philipsburg Harbor in about two hours. As we neared we saw three big cruise ships docked. One of the
three left when we were still a few miles away. We then had an ego-boosting experience as the two remaining ships
waiting patiently at their berths for us to pass, yielding the right-of-way to us as we sailed by them at a stately 4
knots. They wasted no time in leaving once we were clear. Judging from the flashes we saw from the ships, we're
probably in hundreds of overexposed snapshots as we presented a romantic seascape view to the passengers
crowded along the starboard rails, with Dakota Rose, sails up, drifting through clear blue water, the green hills of St.
Maarten and the setting sun behind us. Steve wanted us to add full moons to the view, but he was overruled,
probably a good thing.
Steve wanted to continue sailing to Simpsons Bay, another hour on, because he felt it would be a more protected
anchorage, but once again he was overruled, which this time was not a good thing. Philipsburg Harbor proved one
of the rolliest anchorages we'd been in on the entire trip. It was deceptive; the waves weren't particularly big, but
they were hitting us right on the beam and were of the exact length to set us rolling at our natural frequency. Well
after midnight Steve got up and spent about a half hour rigging a bridle to the anchor chain that turned us bow into
the waves, which calmed our motions down quite a bit and enabled us to get at least a few hours of sleep.
Thursday, June 16: We all woke up cranky. Dianne and Steve went into Philipsburg for one final walk up the main
shopping street, then we moved Dakota Rose to Simpsons Bay and a much calmer anchorage. We dinghied under
the drawbridge and up Simpsons Lagoon to Marigot for lunch, then spent the afternoon taking care of logistics ...
checking email and sending out mail from the Business Center at Simpsons Bay Marina, provisioning, and visiting
the surf shop where Jay had bought his skim board to get a box that he'll be able to use to pack it up for the trip
home. That evening Dianne and the kids went in to the movies while Steve stayed on the boat, cooking spaghetti
for dinner and resting up for the next morning's early departure.
Friday, June 17: Steve awoke at 3:00 am, raised the anchor, and got us underway for Virgin Gorda by 3:15. Once
we were clear of the harbor, he set a course for our waypoint, 76 miles to the northwest. The sky was clear, and
with the wind light and directly behind us for the entire trip, we motored with the jib up the entire way, giving us a
speed of 6 to 7 knots. Waves were also following us, so it was a much more comfortable ride than our sail across
the Anegada Passage in the other direction last April.
At sunrise we were joined by dolphins that stayed with us for over an hour. Grey, playful, and on the small side, we
wondered if they might be juveniles broken away from a larger school (pod?) for some wake surfing. They scooted
alongside the boat, played chicken-of-the-sea by darting just ahead of the onrushing bow, even jumped and did
back flips for us.
We picked up a mooring at Leverick Bay, North Sound, Virgin Gorda, at 4:15 that afternoon. That evening, the
resort had a party planned ... barbecue on the beach, with a live reggae/calypso band and the Mocco Jumbies,
Caribbean dancers on tall stilts wearing colorful, frilled costumes. We went in for the festivities, but didn't last too
much past 9:00 because we were tired from the day's sail.
Saturday, June 18: Steve hitched a ride into Spanish Town to clear us into BVI Customs and Immigration. We
spent the day hanging around the pool at Leverick Bay Resort, and did five loads of laundry. This took the better
part of the afternoon: with the low water pressure, the wash cycles took forever, and the air is so humid that it would
take two or even three runs through the dryer until everything was dry. While sitting at the beachside bar between
loads, we met a couple from San Francisco, Lauren Schwartz and Mill Nash, who were spending five days at the
Bitter End to celebrate Lauren's birthday (we won't reveal which one without a written, signed release!). We'd run
into them again the next day at Saba Rock, then join them at the Bitter End for sunset drinks.
Sunday/Monday, June 19/20: We pulled into the Leverick Bay fuel dock for diesel, gas and to fill our water tanks,
then motored across North Sound to anchor near the Bitter End Resort in about 50 feet of water. We stayed there
for two nights. Presaging an approaching tropical wave, the winds picked up to 20-25 knots, kicking up waves that
made snorkeling seem not so appealing. We lounged on a nearby beach, then in the evenings went in to watch a
couple of movies at the Bitter End outdoor theater. We had dinner at the Fat Virgin Cafe, near the Biras Creek
Resort. For some odd reason, Steve ordered their Monday dinner special, goat roti, which combined an odd meat
with one of his least favorite spices, curry, all wrapped in flatbread. We won't go into the results.
Late Monday afternoon, a Moorings catamaran pulled in right next to us, with what looked to be a single male
charter captain and six to eight very large, very white, very loud, very American, very middle-aged and very
uninhibited women aboard. While the captain retired discreetly to the front of their boat, the "gals" proceeded to
strip their clothes off and shower naked on the transom, soaping each other up, then frolicking in the water to rinse.
Steve remarked that he hadn't seen as impressive collection of boobs since he retired. To add insult to injury, they
were blasting Huey Lewis and the News through the anchorage at high volume. Dianne's opinion was that it was a
group of friends into the "Goddess" movement, which made some sense since they'd yell "I feeeel soooo freeeeeee
glub glub!!!!!" as they'd jump into the water, all naked and dimply and soapy and flipfloppy. Steve took matters in
hand (figuratively) by going to our foredeck and pointedly staring at them through binoculars; when he had their
attention, with broad, theatrical gestures he at least got them to turn down their music.
Tuesday, June 21: The wind continued to blow at 20 to 25 knots from the southeast. We made one last shopping
trip into the Bitter End, then raised anchor and sailed over to Trellis Bay, on Beef Island, adjacent to Tortola. Steve
and Jay finished reading A Merchant of Venice, Jay's Shakespeare assignment for his English course, and between
the two of them they actually seem to have made some sense out of it. It was a fairly uneventful day, some rain
came through with the tropical wave. We had dinner at the Last Resort, which sits on a small island ... really no
more than a large, flat rock ... in the middle of the bay. For those of you who have been here and have fond
memories, we're sad to report that the resident donkey has died, tho' his memory is kept alive on the staff's t-shirts.
Wednesday/Thursday, June 22/23: Back to Tortola, pulling into a guest dock at Moorings Base to await the
arrival of Gary, Lynn and Bob. Some very Tortola-typical vignettes:
- Diane, shopping in Roadtown, passed a rack of Newsweek magazines prominently displayed by the cash
register of a market. Thinking that it would provide some good airplane reading, as well as easing her cold-
turkey reintroduction into the news-obsessed American society, she plunked down $5 for a copy. It was only
after she got back to the boat that Steve pointed out that the issue she'd bought was more than a year old!
Perhaps the inset photo of Brad Pitt, captioned "The Making of an Epic: Troy," should have given it away.
Steve asked at the marina where we could get one of our propane tanks filled. He was told, "Go up the street
mon, turn left, turn right, turn left again, when you get to the main road give it in to Tico." Well, Steve followed
the directions, but when he arrived there, "Tico" was a beer and wine warehouse. He went in anyway,
carrying the empty tank, and was greeted by the warehouse foreman, who told him to put in the back of the
red pick-up out back and come back tomorrow morning with $15, cash. Turns out that this purveyor of fine
spirits is also the primary small-tank propane supplier in Tortola, it's just that he sells it bootleg from the back
of his truck to avoid government restrictions.
On his way to Tico, Steve walked past Clarence Thomas Plumbing Supplies: Toilets, Fittings, Pipe, Fixtures.
He felt that there's Justice when people get jobs that befit their intellectual capacity and personal proclivities.
Friday, June 24, through Wednesday, June 29: We cruised through the BVI with Gary, Lynn and Bob, who
chartered a new Beneteau 44.3 sailboat. They didn’t especially like the boat, which was French-built … it had a
funky layout below, and it didn’t sail particularly well. But, that certainly didn’t get in the way of our fun. We called at
North Sound, Virgin Gorda; had a glorious sail to Anegada, where we gorged on fresh lobster at The Big Bamboo
and napped in hammocks on the beach; spent a long day sailing back from Anegada, stopping at Marina Cay for
lunch and then proceeding on to Norman Island; and spent our last night in Sopers Hole, where we dined on pizza
at the Jolly Roger. For our penultimate evening we had dinner and partied at the floating restaurant, Willie T's, in
The Bight, Norman Island, where the goings-on will have to be described by Dianne or Steve in person, being far
too risqué for this family-oriented website. Let’s just say that, at Willie T’s, one can either buy a t-shirt for $25, or
earn one by engaging in various types of unclothed activities, and there were a number of thrifty people there that
night. We went home with the same shirts we were wearing when we got there, albeit a tad sweaty from our dancing.
Gary et. al. departed Sopers Hole early in the morning on the 29th to turn in their boat in Roadtown and catch their
plane. Dianne and the kids packed the day before and caught a cab to the airport at 9:30 in the morning of the 29th
to return home, leaving Steve behind to stay on Dakota Rose until her loading for shipment to Ensenada in July.
chartered a new Beneteau 44.3 sailboat. They didn’t especially like the boat, which was French-built … it had a
funky layout below, and it didn’t sail particularly well. But, that certainly didn’t get in the way of our fun. We called at
North Sound, Virgin Gorda; had a glorious sail to Anegada, where we gorged on fresh lobster at The Big Bamboo
and napped in hammocks on the beach; spent a long day sailing back from Anegada, stopping at Marina Cay for
lunch and then proceeding on to Norman Island; and spent our last night in Sopers Hole, where we dined on pizza
at the Jolly Roger. For our penultimate evening we had dinner and partied at the floating restaurant, Willie T's, in
The Bight, Norman Island, where the goings-on will have to be described by Dianne or Steve in person, being far
too risqué for this family-oriented website. Let’s just say that, at Willie T’s, one can either buy a t-shirt for $25, or
earn one by engaging in various types of unclothed activities, and there were a number of thrifty people there that
night. We went home with the same shirts we were wearing when we got there, albeit a tad sweaty from our dancing.
Gary et. al. departed Sopers Hole early in the morning on the 29th to turn in their boat in Roadtown and catch their
plane. Dianne and the kids packed the day before and caught a cab to the airport at 9:30 in the morning of the 29th
to return home, leaving Steve behind to stay on Dakota Rose until her loading for shipment to Ensenada in July.
Back to the BVI
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