We are getting rather good at candlelit dinners, much debate and putting the world to rights (it was EU and race issues last night) over a hefty dollop of good old spag bol. a Bob favourite.  Having run out of wine we thought we would stick to G&T, it does slide down very nicely and makes the burbly debate bubble along nicely.  We needed much G&T to be able to get any sleep at all, it was so exceedingly rolly and WIndy was doing a fine impression of an old BBC pirate ship sound effect.  I awoke early to find Bob with his head down in the bilges seeing if he could resolve some of the creaks and groans.  He couldn’t sleep either and didn’t have much success in stopping the squeaks.

It is a fair old sail between Martinique and St Lucia, about 35 miles so we set off in good time, skirted the headland leaving the anse behind without much regret and lined our sights for a straight run down to Rodney Bay.  Typical.  The wind has come round to the south and so it was on our nose.  We sailed as close to the wind as we could get but were still 4 miles off course after three hours and only making 3 knots across the ground because of some mysterious unidentified current fighting against us.  We decided to put in a tack and found ourselves heading back to Martinique, it is most frustrating to go backwards.  After a tack back in the direction of Rodney Bay, it appeared that the Garmin was predicting an arrival time of well after the sun was over the yard arm so we decided to go off the wind and sod where we ended up.  As a result it turned out to be a lovely smooth, soothing sail with WIndy neatly and steadily going forward over the waves without any fuss.  As we came parallel to Rodney Bay, we motored in, fenders out, ropes attached and ready, were allocated our parking space and gently made our way to our berth.  Bob always clenches his buttocks waiting for me to turn, he would do so much earlier, but we slid in, passed the mooring lines to the two marina lads who made them secure.  The nose was drifting out so I used the bow thruster to swing it back in but it just went out even further however much I kept stabbing at the button, I am not always at my most calm when berthing.  I was confused and the lad was nearly pulled into the water.  I suddenly realised that between Christmas and now, Chris had rewired same.  He wired it the opposite way than it had been which might explain the extreme puzzlement.

Bob has tried to attach us to the shore power but it won’t work.  After a great deal of fiddling (while I took the laundry to Mr Suds who was not at home, visited the marina office, clutching the bag of laundry and stuck my nose into the new deli, still with the bag in tow) he has finally concluded that the terminal has corroded terminally.  Another trip to the chandlers is on the menu for tomorrow.

Just one sleep and my sisters, Sara and Susie, arrive for a cruise.  Very exciting. Note to self: Better get some more gin in.