When we arrived at St Lucia we had been at sea for approximately 17 days, 16 hours and 59 minutes. We crossed the finish line seconds before midnight on Thursday 11th December. It seemed odd to do anything other than run before the wind yet here we were sprinting for the line on a close reach, having donned Santa hats (as you do). Out of nowhere the local photographer appeared, flash blazing James Bond style. He had developed the amazing knack of steering his motorboat with his knees, whilst taking photos and keeping his balance as his motorboat darted back and forth chasing the angles and orchestrating the shoot. Buoyed up by so much sudden action, we were elated to hear the finish boat sound the horn as we crossed the line. Having been warned of ill prepared boats forgetting what to do when entering a harbour after weeks at sea, we mechanically set about starting the engine, furling the genoa and mainsail and then getting fenders and warps together.  As we motored along a channel before getting to the marina, we were given a muted, drunken applause by 3 men (and a dog) in Happy Days bar. Shortly after, Alastair and Ian (on the foredeck) shouted something back to me which didn't make much sense. Alastair who was closer rushed back and yanked the wheel hard to port: there was a lit starboard (red!) channel buoy at just the height you wouldn't think to look; approximately 1m above water level. Having been ushered to berth C01 and found there to be insufficient water for our draft, you can imagine our relief when we finally tied-up and were greeted with a rum punch by two 'yellow shirts'. Meeting and greeting people at all times of the day and night is way beyond the call of duty and very welcome. However, exhausted as we were, I remember trying to assimilate all sorts of information they thought we should know as the rum punch kicked in and our minds had already gone ahead to the bar. I'm quite used to the strange sensation of solidity experienced when returning to 'terra firma'; everything is oddly solid and immovable. What I've never experienced before (on returning to land) is the sensation of being mildly stoned. Maybe it was exhaustion or maybe it was being 'zoned out' or maybe it was the relief of finishing or a combination of all three. Although I was walking, my feet didn't feel as though they were touching the floor, I was gliding along the pontoon. I concluded that either I was in some sort of transcendental trance or I had a problem with my blood pressure. Wow I thought, this is going to be a cheap drink! Just two beers later and we decided to call it a night; bed was more preferable than beer.

I don't recall a more pleasurable night's sleep for years. Whilst it felt like I'd slept for the best part of 12 hours (on account of me thinking it was mid afternoon when it was before noon), I'd actually only slept for 7-8 hours!

Having checked in at health, customs, immigration, the marina office, and been to the bank, the mini-market and a couple of food stalls, I frantically retraced my steps looking for the wallet containing all our passports and some of the ships papers. Fortunately I'd left them in the bank and they were safe. Afterwards, in a somewhat calmer state of mind, I reflected on the fact that tiredness and mental processing do not mix well and that although St Lucia may be a poor country, the people are honest.

Knackered as we still were, and having just arrived, we gratefully accepted the 'ready made' entertainment provided by the ARC programme in the Marina complex and although the body was up for the Friday night 'jump-up' at Gros Inlet, the mind was very limp and fuzzy especially after 3 beers.

Ted and Iris (the boat owners and my parents) arrived 13th December having originally thought they'd be there in time to see us arrive. Over the next week, we partied by night and maintained and repaired the boat by day to ensure Ted, Iris and their guests could enjoy their month long cruise heading north up the island chain to St Thomas. From there the boat will be transported back to Southampton in June on a large container ship so that with any luck we will be sailing next season.

I have endured and enjoyed our trip across the Atlantic and apologise for the delayed last instalment. To be honest, I had no idea that anyone other than relatives were reading this blog and when we arrived, without the structure of the watch system and with the distraction of partying and work the blog was forgotten.

However, the journey (or should I say adventure) continues with new participants and a new author, so pls watch this space for more 'adventures of Jo'......

All that remains is for me to wish you a very merry Christmas, a happy New Year and say thanks for reading!