Dinner, a saucy chicken served with salad, spaghetti and fried rice, was delicious and washed down with several Hairouns.  The “restaurant” was an open structure roofed with old sails, papered with Rasta posters and visiting yachts flags, signed by the crews with some bantering tales felt tipped on to them, mostly rather crude.  The tables and chairs were knocked together from 4 by 2, painted gaily, some foam added and tastefully upholstered in lino.  It was very cosy and comfortable although I had to create a footstool from the sand floor so that I didn’t dangle my legs like a child.  The view was to die for particularly as the moon is most of the way to being full.  Roxanne guided us gently back and we slept like logs.

Today has been absolutely fabulous.  We were aiming for Bequia but were going at such a lick that we left it behind and have made it half way up St VIncent.  The wind was blowing steadily at 18 to 20 knots and we were bowling along at 6 to 7 knots all day, it was blissful.  I decided to use Fran’s sun deck and enjoy stretching out like a cat watching the way we had come but was given short shrift by the skipper who gave me a dressing down for dereliction of duties. I returned to my station behind the wheel.  We were on the right tack for cook to cook so today Bob was served with a deconstructed waldorf salad arranged carefully on a large plate, the mayonnaise smeared artfully in a flourish.  Bob greatly admired the presentation and gobbled it in seconds flat.  Inevitably when we came alongside St Vincent the wind died and our first experience of grumbly thunder clouds moved in, although we were able to skirt most of it so the driver only got a little bit wet, the engine went on and the amperes were built up for later.

We like Cumberland Bay and had promised that we would partake of our dinner at Mojito’s on our return journey and a promise is a promise so we headed in.  This promise also meant that we didn’t have to show our faces at the Black Baron where we had disgraced ourselves after a “too much gin” episode.  We are now old hands at parking stern to but I still managed to have a bit of a panic as we appeared to be going backwards into a catamaran who was leaving and nonchalantly bearing down on us.  Aargh! The manoeuvre was completed without the panic being apparent to Logey who was guiding us in and Bob only had to tie on a third rope to reach the handy palm tree on the shore.  It is a beautiful spot, a horseshoe bay surrounded by lush trees and evidence of cultivation, a river mouth begging to be explored, 5 other yachts parked on the opposite side of the bay, brightly painted fishing boats laden with nets and a bunch of gulls settling down for the night and a handful of shabby shacks and three reasonably well groomed houses.  It is still raining on and off but we are happily protected under the Bimini and having a good old nose at all the carryings on around us. Nearly time for the nun to go over the yard arm and since we are completely out of beer I have a really rum surprise lined up for Bob.