Morning brought a little fishing boat alongside offering their catch, we selected Lionel, the lobster who spent the day in a bucket of sea water pretending to be dead then resurrecting when ever I got brave ( well, hardly brave, pulling a face and finally touching him after many false starts is not very brave) enough to try to pick him up. Eventually Phil put him in a bag and, with some squeaking (from me, not Lionel), I put him in the fridge to calm him down. 

It was an easy passage, once we were past the reef, out of the bay and away from the overfalls that run across it's mouth, because the Islands in the Grenadines are all really close to each other, the furthest being only about 8 miles apart. This means that you can see the Islands before you sail to them. It's fun working out which grey lump on the horizon is which of the Islands, whether it's a smaller one but closer up, or a larger one but further away.  As we passed Isle å Quatre we realised we had another lion? duck?  baboon? quandary on our hands!

We went ashore and were met at the pontoon by Wilbert, who took our painter and gave us directions to the best local bar where we could get cold beer and some lunch, where we found curry and seasoned rice - yum! The village has chickens and goats (or sheep, hard to tell which is which sometimes: 'No, dose not goats, dems sheep!') wondering all around it.

Sheltering from the sun under a bush we found a nanny goat and her four tiny tiny kids, they can't have been more that a couple of days old. Following on from his success with the ground squirrels, Phil became a goat whisperer. 

                      

We took the dinghy over to the reef and anchored it in order to snorkel - superb! All kinds of coral imaginable; huge black black sea urchins hiding in nooks; splodgy squirming things, some with spikes, some with nodules, but I don't know what they were (sea cucumbers? Sea slugs?); fish of every hue, from bright blue with even brighter blue dots to soft shades of brown and cream - like siamese fish. Again we found ourselves swimming in huge shoals, tiny fluorescent ones, big yellow flat ones, black and white stripped ones... all shimmering and flowing around us. It was so delightful, floating over the ever changing, unfolding scene, letting the surf pull us back and forth as it did the fish below us. We held hands as it was a nuisance having to go off and find Phil, to pull his flipper and get him to come see the wondrous thing I'd just seen, but perhaps could no longer locate.

There was just one family on the long sandy beach, the little one pottering in the sunshine. So, another day, another glorious bay, finished off with a delicious Lionel supper with a bottle of wine in the cockpit as the sun went down and the full moon rose.