Seeking British Virgins

Position: 18°25’05″N 64°36’35″W

Having ordered our new windlass motor, we were stuck in the Virgin Islands until it arrived. Having successfully raised the anchor by hand with all my vertebrae intact, we left the US Virgins and headed over to the British ones. St. John and Tortola sit about a mile apart across the Sir Francis Drake Channel. From the west you can clear into the BVI at Soper’s Hole or go a little further to Road Town, the capitol.

Piracy

Britain has a long history of piracy disguised as bureaucracy. The Royal Navy, for example, awarded prize money whenever one of its ships captured an enemy vessel. All the officers and crew shared a percentage of the captured ship’s value. Thus, if you woke up with a bad hangover and found yourself pressed into HM’s service on a ship with a particularly aggressive captain, you might decide that it was your lucky day. Such incentives made everyone entrepreneurs and the Royal Navy successfully plundered the seas for centuries.

With this in mind, it wasn’t altogether surprising to find the schedule of fees for entering the BVI varied depending on the time of day, the day of the week, and whoever was checking you in. A 50’ sailboat might pay as much as $55, or as little as 75 cents to clear in. In our case, we paid $14, plus another $10 for Marlon.

Veterinarians

Bringing Marlon into the BVI was a bigger deal than you might imagine. It was the culmination of two veterinarian exams in less than a month (one in Norfolk, VA, another in St. Thomas), plus hours and hours of online research to figure out the correct protocols and ensure that our doggie wasn’t arrested and euthanized on arrival. In the end, like almost everything else in life, a big part of the process was simply turning up. Eventually the BVI Department of Agriculture gave Marlon an export health certificate that we hope will make entering other rabies free countries easier. It works like a charm. Thus far, at any rate.

Our visit started quietly, but things picked up for Christmas week. Soon the islands were lousy with catamarans full of marauding lubbers. Charterers in these islands, mostly swabs and amateurs, have scant regard or understanding of the rules of the road. They don’t have much in the way of sailing skills, either. As a result, we spent a great deal of time avoiding them. Which wasn’t too hard. For most tourists there’s a set itinerary that misses many of the BVI’s nicest spots, mostly because you must anchor to enjoy them.

Virgin Gorda

We made our way up to Virgin Gorda and anchored in Gorda Sound on the west side of Prickly Pear Island. Hiking Prickly Pear isn’t easy. Crumbling red rocks, scrub grasses and prickly pears blanket the ground. There are no trails and the spines of a prickly pear are about five inches long. Like giant burrs, they attached themselves to our socks, our shorts, and our skin. Thin-soled beach sandals are the wrong footwear for this place: we didn’t get far.

Virgin Gorda took the full impact of hurricanes Irma and Maria. Its most famous attraction, the Bitter End Yacht Club, was completely destroyed. Leverick Bay, however, survived. The resort hotel and bars have reopened, and the local tuck shop is full of M&Ms.

The weather was blowing a consistent 25-35 knots. That was enough to make our sister Valiant, Loon, drag her anchor on the Sound’s hard-packed bottom. We eventually helped Kenny find a spot nearby where he could get a good night’s sleep. Which he would have, but for the hordes of catamarans that turned up and partied into the wee hours. Fortunately, most left the following day.

Like so many of the volcanic islands in the Caribbean, Virgin Gorda rises up in brilliant greens straight out of the sea until it reaches its 1,400’ summit. Such steepness calls for creative road building. Inclines of 20% and more are common. Locals remain insouciant and drive round steep hairpin corners at bum-clenching speeds.

Exercise

Carol and I decided we needed some exercise, so up the hill we marched. In the space of a couple of miles we climbed about 700’ and felt embarrassingly short of breath. Our onboard fitness scheme is entirely isometric; thus the cardio department is sore and lacking. At the midpoint we paused for a beer at the Hog Heaven pub. Hog Heaven’s cantilevered deck allowed us a sweeping view of the Sound and the heavy weather blowing in from the east.

We could see as far as Anegada, the BVI’s far eastern outpost; itself more of a sandbar than an island. Tidal currents constantly reshape the channel leading into and out of Anegada. I anchored there once many years ago and wasn’t inclined to do it again. At least not in a boat whose keel is a foot and a half deeper than the little Beneteau’s I’d chartered.

Saint Martin

Confirmation of the windlass motor’s delivery finally arrived and we headed back to St John to pick it up. With plans to head to St Martin with our fellow Buccaneers later in the week, Carol and I cleared back into the BVI to get Marlon’s official exit papers. The papers that would prove he had left one rabies free country and make it easier to enter another. It cost us $10. At last we were free to go!

With a couple of days before our rendezvous and departure we hired a car and explored Tortola, end to end, and bottom to top. We even found its modest prison and bounced along several dirt roads blown out by the storms.

Tortola is a beautiful, and quietly empty place right now. The BVI could do with more visitors. A great deal of the mess from last year’s hurricanes has been cleaned up and buildings restored. There’s still a lot left to do. And visitors are coming back as the hotels reopen. If only they could sail…