We thoroughly enjoyed our pre party drinks and as it torrented with tropical rain we had to have yet another round before we left.  Francesca, Bob and I set off eagerly, Francesca prettily dressed to the nines, after bailing out the slip slopping dinghy, to be yet again rained upon, heavily, the moment we pushed off from the stern.  We were absolutely and thoroughly drenched.  Francesca then tried to return to fetch Katie, Pop and Stuart but something went very awry with her ability to steer and I tried not to die laughing as this drenched little girl, dressed in her pretty dress, shot between the back legs of the adjacent ferry, a catamaran.  She managed to wobble her way back to the quayside with loud encouragement from Bob, who shouted instructions.  Bob took over as the ferryman across the river Styx while Francesca and I made our way to the chosen restaurant, in the dark, and wandered through the most enormous puddle.  We arrived, drenched and delirious with laughter to be greeted by the immaculately overdressed owner and hostess who appeared to think she was in Hollywood.  The others arrived, Bob with a tide mark on his trousers up to his crutch, and the others absolutely desert dry.

As drenched and bedraggled as we were, we were still introduced and chatted away to the Governor of Montserrat and his simply adorable Chinese wife who immediately hit it off with Francesca because of a shared passion for the pandas of Wolong.  We sadly had to turn down their invitation to spend the evening with them and Sir George Martin on the grounds that we would be in Antigua that evening.  The reggae band turned up at Caribbean “eight thirty”, a strange eclectic mix of three very Rastafarian rastas and two preppy looking boys on bass guitar and keyboards.  The buffet was served at Caribbean “nine”, but it was well worth waiting for, a delicious array of fish and chicken, salads and sauces, all beautifully cooked. We then all happily boogied away to the band, accompanied by the local alcoholic dancing man who was really a good mover for his age, until New Year started at the bar and rippled its way, eventually, to the band who played Auld Lang Syne.  Our party ensured that everyone linked arms in the traditional way and we joyously brought in 2013 with the usual rendering of repeated verses of “Less Auld Acquaintance be Forgot” because no-one ever knows all the other words.