We were in!...So we prepared our modus operandum. 

First, the ARC prize giving.  This was at Gros Islet, a short taxi ride from Rodney Bay Marina. Tim and Oli were flying in and Karen set up a wonderful logistical plan to ensure that they could join us for at least part of that event. The timings were tight so a helicopter was organised to transfer these VIP's from the international airport in the south of the island, to the local airfield at Castries. Then a taxi would collect them from Castries and rush them directly to the bar at the venue in Gros Islet.  All good. Except that the immigration procedure was slow and our lads were at the back of the queue, itself swollen by the arrival of several planes at the same time.  This indirectly caused the helicopter organisers to leave without them, so our new arrivals had to downgrade to a standard taxi ride across St Lucia which took almost twice as long.

However, arrive, they did, in time for the half time interval and a tad too late to see team Persephone mount the podium to collect the RORC medallion for 4th in class.  But in time to get down to the Friday evening "jump up" down at Gros Islet, get some street food and soak in their first doses of real Caribbean culture. Rum punches, loud reggae beats delivered via huge p.a. systems, raucous cacophanous conversations delivered with enormous enthusiasm and most of all, a very welcoming atmosphere.  In the middle of it all, Nigel was approached by a polish lady who had sailed the ARC double handed. She was keen to learn more about Sigma 38's as she had just bought one….Errislannan, which is now based in the Baltic!  Arrangements were made to continue discussions in the morning…

On 22nd December, we cleared out of St Lucia and Rodney Bay marina, dealing with the administration and formalities for the first time. We made for Souffriere Bay, in the shadow of the famous "Deux Pitons" - the volcanic mounts which are so emblematic of the island.  A quick lunch stop and swim was followed by an afternoon / evening motor round to Vieux Fort, in the very south of St Lucia, where we anchored after dark.

Next morning, we had planned an early start, which commenced with saying goodbye to Rich, who was booked on the afternoon flight home, and so off he went in the dinghy, to land ashore and find his way to the airport on foot. With him, was our errant sat phone, going back for testing.

The sail to Bequia was sparkling. We passed down the windward side of St Vincent, bore away and approached the anchorage on Bequia under full main and spinnaker, our crew revitalised with the addition of Tim and Oli on their holidays. It was great fun to be sailing together after our absence, and there was a lot of catching up to do face to face, despite all the modern communication opportunities.  Michael took the wheel as we selected our anchorage spot, a decent stones throw from the wide sandy beach and we 'dropped the hook" in about 6m of crystal clear water over sand.  Safely secured next to Mad Fish, another Hamble boat, we could see the anchor and chain beneath us.

Naturally, we went ashore to check out Jacks Bar, and the associated beach idyll at sunset….magical, with all the anchor lights of the international (but Scandinavian biased) fleet twinkling before us.

Christmas Eve was all about swimming to the beach, a light lunch snack and then the Norwegian party. No real need for imagination here. Jacks prepared a wonderful barbecue at sunset, and the "deal" was all inclusive, all night, so that by about 7 pm, the rum punches had been flowing freely for 3 hours…need we say more?

Persephone's crew variously engaged in the festivities with professional enthusiasm and retired to bed in the early hours, weaving our way through a selection of beach bound Scandinavian casualties as we found our dinghy, - and we were safe in the knowledge that we had our own "English" Christmas to look forward to in the morning.

Enter Oli. An accomplished chef, he stepped up to the plate admirably for a "busman's holiday"  on Christmas Day, to take control of Persephone's galley and deliver us a Christmas feast of extraordinary quality.  He was slightly let down by our fridge, which had decided that it was going to demonstrate the voltage cut out system while we were not looking. We have not mentioned the lobster so far, but suffice to say, we were sold a magnificent specimen by a "boat boy" and had decided to prepare a lobster cocktail for our Christmas Dinner starter. The lobster put up a fight but succumbed to the pot eventually, and the meat was carefully extracted and stored in the fridge overnight. The fridge dropping out caused consternation on several fronts…panic that our Caribbean adventure would be undertaken without cold beer, relief that our daily battle with amps and volts, driven largely by the same fridge's enthusiasm to consume both might be over. Oli, with his professional hat on, was clearly concerned that our lobster would no longer be fit for human consumption after a night in the warm fridge, and with reluctance, the cooked meat was ceremoniously committed back to the sea.

And at dusk, we sat around the saloon table to enjoy the fruits of Oli's labour to feast on  a salad nicoise, followed by roasted barbecue chicken, roasted vegetables and potato salad. All washed down with some reassuringly  expensive champagne brought out from Gatwick by Tim and Oli. Gifts were exchanged and we slipped off back to the beach after dark to play with some of our new toys….

Gav was flying back to the UK on 27th, so on Boxing Day, we upped the anchor and set off south to Grenada. Another cracking sail of 60 or so miles, ended in the Grenada Yacht Club in St Georges. 

The town is still recovering from Hurricane Ivan, which devastated the island almost a decade ago, but has no less charm for all that, and after moving to the smart Port Louis marina opposite GYC, we spent much of the 27th exploring the maze of streets behind the Carenage…the lagoon originally used to clean barnacles off the trading ships in the 18th Century. Gav slipped away with minimal fuss…he hates good byes, but the note he left reinforced the notion that this had been the trip of a lifetime!

After St Georges, with batteries topped up and fresh water on board, we slipped out and round to Prickly Bay, where again, we anchored off the beach. Tim swam to and from the beach a few times - the sunsets were wonderful and the location was superb.

New Year's eve was planned with precision. We set off so find a new anchorage in Cariacou, a Grenadan Grenadine island  north of Grenada itself. Then we would spend New Years Day in the Tobago Cays, snorkelling and swimming etc... So we left Prickly Bay to arrive at or around dusk. Sailing north from Grenada brought a new phase of our journey into play. It has been some time since we actually sailed to windward!  Reflecting a moment, your author remembers that the last "beat" we sailed was on 25th November on the other side of the Atlantic, in Gran Canaria. The Caribbean is rough, so progress was slow and as dark fell, we found ourselves some way off the safe haven in Cariacou. The pilotage is not too tricky, but the lights are unreliable and  the approach has some shallow shoals which needed careful avoidance.  But Persephone's engine, so reliable so far, refused to play at all. It needed the cold start, ran for just a few seconds and then stopped. Nigel suspected a fuel supply problem and decided to change the primary filter on the fuel tank. The filter seemed to contain some very dirty fuel, so hopes were high as the new cartridge was installed and we started to bleed the fuel through to the engine. Then Nigel made a mistake and accidentally sheared the banjo nut on the top of the engine fuel filter - so we knew we were not going to get the engine going again without professional help. But where would we get the help we needed? Tomorrow morning was New Year's Eve…there are no known mechanics on Cariacou, so after some careful evaluation, we elected to return to Grenada, undoing the sterling windward work we had undertaken all day. We anchored at dawn, outside St Georges.  GYC came to the rescue, organising a tow in and Patrick, the trusty diesel mechanic, who worked tirelessly all afternoon to get us going again.

The fuel in the tank was horrible. The tank was clean, but the fuel was like an emulsion, but not of water. It had to come out!

A workshop in St Georges made the new banjo nut

Patrick found a blockage in the primary filter head, and after 5 ½ hours we were potentially mobile again.

New Years eve was a muted affair, clearing up after the mechanical intervention and getting the diesel out of the bilges. Nigel had slept an hour in 36, and missed the fireworks and party at the Marina, accompanied by the accomplished and ubiquitous reggae band. We all went to bed exhausted, but Michael and Anna somehow managed to see in the New Year listening to the band.

New Years day found us beating back up the same stretch of water, this time to Union. A beautiful, wild beach, with several superyachts anchored, we rested overnight and the following morning, Tim and Oli swam ashore again to report on the beautiful location.

Then an afternoon and night sail, past Bequia, St Vincent etc, to Marigot Bay, back on St Lucia.

We celebrated Tim and Oli's birthdays back in the Rainforest Hideaway restaurant, and swimming in the bay.  As I write, Tim and Oli are touching down in Gatwick, their brief holiday over all too soon.

Martinique tomorrow!