Deshais was a delightful spot. Guarded as it was by a superyacht called "4 you", the sparkling clear water in this secluded bay was particularly inviting. The village, nestling at the foot of the lush green hillsides resembled an Alpine scene, complete with painted church spire and colombage architecture.

We found a lovely restaurant adjacent to the dinghy / fishing dock and mused on the rest of the island…french, certainly, but seemingly more "Caribbean " than Martinique?

And so, the next morning, 13th January, off to Antigua. The wind was lighter than it had been further south, and the seas just a little lower as we slowly edged past Monserrat far away to the west.  Determined to sail in as far as possible to our destination, we found ourselves overhauling all the boats around us going in the same general direction. Finally a few tacks alongside a pair of small classic yachts which had emerged from Falmouth harbour for some Sunday afternoon play, and it was time to slip gently into English Harbour.

This is a well hidden spot, used by the British  to guard their interests in the 17th and 18th centuries. As with all new harbour arrivals, we were cautious, surveying the channel with great care, proceeding slowly. This was  "the English Harbour" - possibly the most famous harbour in the Caribbean. The first thing one notices is the array of fantastic yachts displaying their AIS signals…a sort of VHF based radar….and then the boats themselves come into view, most docked stern to the wall of Nelsons Dockyard which juts out into the harbour so that the yachts radiate from the small promontary.

Next thing you notice is that, despite creeping along, dead slowly, you have passed the dockyard and are headed into the murky lagoon beyond, which is surrounded on 3 sides by mangroves…it serves as a "hurricane hole" in the summer.

We decided, as there was a space, to use the dockyard "marina" and pulled in alongside a fine 100 foot long classic yacht called Pere Linne. First, Michael let the anchor fall from the bow roller when we were about 2.5 boat lengths from the dock and we gently motored backwards towards the wall until the anchor chain was pulled tight. If our calculations were right, this would happen before we touched the dock. The manoeuvre went swimmingly and we were able to hold Persephone within a metre of the wall on the engine in reverse, while the twin stern lines were attached to the bollards ashore. To a casual onlooker, we might even have seemed competent at this!

Persephone was the smallest boat on Nelsons' Dockyard by a factor of 2! The classic yachts are assembling here in Antigua for a rally / regatta in February and so, day by day, the assembled company gets more and more  illustrious. Everything in the Dockyard is aimed at these super sized beauties, with their air conditioned saloons and professional crews of a dozen or more bright young international sailors. Even the shore power electrical connectors are a scale up from anything we have seen before…and the adapter can be "rented" at $10 per day!

It's all very lovely, and the restoration of the dockyard is pretty to see. There seems to be a strong american influence here…visitors are first offered services priced in the good ol' greenback. Is there an additional margin from the conversion rate to the real currency, the EC$? 

A bus ride to St Johns revealed more of the true character of Antigua…the school kids proudly wearing their school uniforms, the hustle bustle of the commercial centre of the capital, plus the tax free shopping opportunities for the steady stream of cruise ship visitors. We found ourselves asking how many diamonds and expensive watches find their way by cruise liner from these islands back to Miami, Fort Lauderdale, or indeed, Southampton? 

While talking of cruise liners, one of the huge Cunard ships was in, and the more adventurous of her passengers had elected to come to English Harbour to see the sights. A number of folk, passing along the quay, stopped and engaged us in conversation, based on the tiny proportions of Persephone compared to the others, and their own ship, which took 6 days to cross from Southampton to the Caribbean. I guess we were clearly not working as professional crew, relentlessly cleaning and polishing, and might have seemed more approachable than those that were. Noting our good ship's name "Persephone of London" opening gambits were - "Did you come here, all the way from London?" "How long did it take you?" We were seasick in mid Atlantic- those seas were huge-…you must have been terrified?" It gave Nigel a useful platform around which to inform an impromptu audience about the Sigma 38, it's background and sailing characteristics. Not enough material for a lecture circuit in the 'States yet, but those that know him will understand that he needs only the slightest of cues….