The lobster at the Lobster Trap last night (Eric’s uncle’s place) was delicious.  The salad that came first (why?) was bog standard and the only dressings were highly coloured, strangely flavoured, of the American variety.  We just had a quick little nibble like rabbits to show willing because the serving staff were all so lovely.  The lobster itself was succulent, plainly barbecued over a halved oil can filled with driftwood, with melted butter to pour over it.  Served with a plain, plump baked potato, it may have been simplicity personified but it was just simply good.  We were happily replete.

The morning’s tricky exit in reverse to our buttock clenching entry to Anegada was easier knowing which of the buoys were missing and we left unharmed. Up went the sails and off we flew on a broad reach, bobbing along over a gentle sea at a steady 7 plus knots with the wind briskly blowing at between 19 to 22 knots.   The sun shone.  It was divine.  I then became perturbed by an intermittent, rubbery squeaking noise which I thought I ought to mention to Bob.  Bob tracked it down to the autopilot again.  It was nothing like the blowing over a bottle sound that signalled failure before but had the same effect.  Hence the “bugger” of the title. 

We hand steered into Trellis Bay, arriving at 11am, where we are booked into the Last Resort for New Year celebrations.  (We aren’t expecting the Governor this year but would like to mark this auspicious occasion with suitable merriment).  It was harder to find a parking space than it is in Devizes on market day.  There were hundreds of mooring balls but they were all occupied.  What on earth time had they arrived to bag their spots?  In despair we have hooked on to a buoy clearly marked Private.  Bob is fretful that the owner will loom out of the darkness and make us move on but my strategy is to say that “we have steering issues and can’t possibly do so” (and “make us if you can”, I can be quite fierce when feeling stressed).

I made Bob his favourite Waldorf Slaw in an attempt to cheer him up and as soon as he had golloped it down immediately emptied the Mary Poppins bag lazarette and had a good stare, bottom in the air, at the malfunctioning activator.  There was nothing obvious to see but why had a second one failed?  Was it a coincidence.  Serious assistance was required because there is no way we can hand steer for the required overnight leg to Nevis.

We made contact with Ulrich, Bob having to use the sat phone because Vodafone have pulled the plug on Bob’s mobile again (they have done it before willy nilly) and he gave us the name of the most appropriate “mender” on Tortola, Cay Marine.  Bob then spoke to them and they can’t send anyone to help until January 15th, great, but are happy to look at the malfunctioning part if we take it to them, after the holiday of course, which we will.  The only problem is that parking in Nanny Cay, where they reside, is so full that we have to wait for a space to be freed up before we can move there.  In all not a very happy New Year’s Eve afternoon, and Bob certainly is not feeling in the mood for jolly japes and celebrating.  We will just have to reach for another beer.