After our gin and tonics, “might as well finish up this last teensy bit in the bottle”, dinner was going to be fantastic wherever we ended up.  We ended up in the Tapas restaurant across the lagoon.  It was an interesting take on tapas, one beef dish was inedible, and the best bits of the evening were most definitely the deliciously cute 11 month old baby who was clearly having a wonderful time and the jolly waitresses who were very careful to pour equal measures of wine for Bob and I.  Girl power won out and I definitely did well with the last drops.  We fell out of the restaurant into the dinghy, made our way back across the lagoon and decided that the party should continue by opening another bottle of wine.  When will we learn.

Most surprisingly, we arose at a frightfully sensible hour, tucked into a hearty breakfast, stowed everything, battened down the hatches, even remembered to disconnect the shore power before gliding fuss free and gently from our berth.  As we headed out from Rodney Bay Bob fixed the speedo which wasn’t working and we were off.  We hadn’t quite decided where to exactly, but definitely Martinique.  The wind got up, the sails went up and we hoollied along.  We left a catmaran standing and overtook a similar sized yacht with smug glee. It was a joy to be back at sea with the wind in our sails bowling along.  “Good old Windy” we chortled in delight.  Then a great big black cloud stormed its way across whipping up the wind and the sea and depositing very heavy dollops of rain.  Bob dived for the cagoules, we needed them.  We stormed along at 8 knots rather more heeled than perhaps we would have liked.  After some time, it eventually passed through leaving us drenched.  As we sailed into St Anne it was if it had never happened and we calmly chose our spot and tidily put down the anchor. 

After the arrival beer, a spot of lunch and Kindle time, we puttered into town.  We have definitely been here before but can’t really remember it very well.  There is a very pretty church that opens its doors straight down the main jetty providing a lovely welcome.The joys of getting old and senile is that repeated visits occur with just a tiny, little sense of deja vu, usually when we check out the restaurants!  Having picked our potential places for this evening, we returned to the boat where Bob accomplished one of his amazing mendings, this time where the strut that supports the boom that had somehow popped out of its casing, he is such a clever chap.  I don’t think we will even contemplate starting Gerry, it would be shame to spoil a good day.  Perhaps we will have a G&T instead.