Arising bright and early, Bob went to find Ulrich to solve the mysteries aboard Windy and after a good catch up was told that Lawrence (the mousatchioed Super Mario look alike) would be “down later” to fit the vang.  Meanwhile, I worked myself into a lather trying to get on to the internet which is the most frustrating thing in the world.  IGY Marinas provide no less than 5 “beacons” none of which do anything much than shine brightly in the connections available list.  When you try to connect, they are slower than snails and then promptly fall over in a heap before you can say google.  Technology not working hits my psychopath button and I become unbearable.  So we went to the bank, the ATM wasn’t working, not unusual, requiring the filling in forms in quadruplicate and a good half hour thumb twiddling in order to get some cash.  While Bob accomplished this demanding task, I chatted to our neighbouring German family who came over with the ARC crewed by a very small blonde boy and an even smaller blonde girl, both very cute.  They told me that they were going to avoid St Vincent because “it was too dangerous”.  It is so sad that the islands that most need visitors to survive are getting bad mouthed behind their backs. My response was that the two children would love Wallilabou, particularly the pirate themed restaurant.  We then popped into the shop and filled a marina cart with beer and water with at least three cheery locals asking us where the party was as we trundled our way back to Windy. We decided to pop up to Elenas for lunch with the cunning plan of using her WiFi which is known to actually connect and at the same time over faced ourselves with a pizza for lunch.  Far too much sweaty, greasy cheese when the sun is shining and we are already perspiring.  We drifted “home” and wondered if Lawrence would ever come.  He didn’t.  We were so fed up that we couldn’t be bothered to go across the lagoon for the big supermarket shop, which would in any case require a visit to the petrol station on the opposite side of the bay.  We somewhat sulkily occupied ourselves in other ways and got momentarily overexcited when a DSL t-shirted boy turned up and ran off with the vang.

In despair at the loss of a whole frustrating day to absolutely nothing at all of any benefit or anything to do with holidays or sailing we decided to do what we always do when depressed, we hit the gin and tonic.  I knocked up a quick salad and we retired early.