Antigua… the English must have thanked god for blessing their country when
they first arrived in Antigua. After many days on a relentless and
unchanging sea it wasthe smell of Antigua hit us before land even graced
the horizon. The smell of land, the jungle, damp forests, sunscreen and a
slight hint of dope – Antigua’s own unique perfume!
Our last few days at sea were an odd combination of awesome chute up,
flying down waves, 10knot sailing during daylight and an uncomfortable
noisy, rolly, 6.5kt night. The spinnaker was the only sail we could hold
with the wind right from behind and none of us fancied taking the helm and
trying to restrain the antics of our huge black rimmed spinnaker in the
Still land got closer… and closer… and closer… Two flashing strobes kept
us all amused for our final night – is it a ship? Looks like its on land?
Bloody bright at 25nm away? Must consult yachtmaster book…?! Finally
dawned on us that it was two identical radio masts… woop woop LAND AHOY!
We finally arrived outside Falmouth Harbour at 7am on Tuesday 24th of
January. 2800nm in just under 16 days. Not bad for a 60ft cruising yacht!
Upon arrival I was off to sweet talk customs and for the rest of the
motley crew it was cleaning time – a good wash inside and out was just
what Elizabeth D (and her salty passengers) needed. Once squeaky clean, we
all needed a nice cold drink – fancy that – the fridge is full of beer!
All seafarers will empathise with me when I state that nothing goes down
better after a few days at sea than a cold alcoholic beverage and a good
meal out. Unfortunately one is never enough… and the rums just kept on
sliding down. A miniature pub crawl was called for as the drinks got
bigger and more complicated. When the espresso martini’s hit the table it
was bound to be one of those afternoons.
Our esteemed crew Seaman Toyne and Seaman Peacock had flights out that
very afternoon deciding to forgo the pleasures of Antigua in favour of
wives and girlfriends back home. Still they packed in the beverages while
they could and the last we saw of them George had taken a donkey from a
crack addict and was sitting on its back while Jason held the lead rope
and stumbled into the sunset… Last we heard George had still not arrived
Spanna and I are recovering today, from both the rum soaked evening and
the passage. An offer of a morning’s sail on a friend’s yacht was too good
to refuse however. Who would have thought that one evening on dry land
would be enough and the urge to go sailing would rise again!
Thanks to all the people that read this blog and have followed our trip
across the ocean. You are all thought of whilst we wile away time at sea
and your good wishes and encouragement kept us going throughout the
Now… Im off to find that donkey…