I showered with the forward cabin sofa cushion cushion last night.  It seemed a good way to get the diesel off without wasting too much fresh water.  After a giant sized gin and tonic, a good dollop of the infamous spag bol and the other bottle of wine, we were very happy to settle for an early night exhausted from our tense day, fuel hauling and boat scrubbing (inside and out).  Both Kindles fell on respective faces within moments.

We awoke, eagerly looking forward to a new day.  Surely yesterday was a one off in this land of amazing wind?  we upped anchor and headed out for Nevis.  There was no wind.  It seems barely possible but there was even less than yesterday with the dial registering a big fat zero for most of the day.  It was disappointing motoring all the way again, but at least we knew we had fuel.  Our ferry ride was broken by the appearance of two dolphins who put in a spectacular leap before busying away into the distance and the view of Redonda, a rather large, pudding bowl shaped rock slipping by.  I reread the history including the fact that there is, to this day, a King of Redonda despite it now being completely deserted.  And so our journey rolled on, the sails flapping unhappily, the boom swinging with an irritating screech and heavy clunk.  At last, out of the thick haze, we spied Nevis and puttered along to the field of mooring balls just down from Charlestown (I say “just down” but it takes 20 minutes to dinghy in to the nearest dinghy dock).  Bob risked the boat hook manoeuvre (with “on your own head be it” ringing in his ears) but these are most amenable mooring balls with lovely long bits of lead rope that can be very easily hooked with absolutely no to do at all and so, without any fuss or post mortems, we are safely and securely moored.  However, with the wind from the South East it is once again spectacularly rolly and the sea very choppy.  Another fly in today’s ointment is the four stowaways who boarded at Montserrat.  Pesky little blighters who I have been chasing around our cabin and the galley.  I most definitely have drowned one and suffocated another but there are still two who seemed to have gone into hiding this evening.  Lets hope they don’t reappear to annoy us at bed time.

After lunch and one too many beers making us very sleepy we eventually decided to go into town to check in, have a stroll, buy some bits and bobs with the thought that we might have an early supper to avoid the long haul in the dinghy.  Of course Customs and Immigration were closed, our stroll through town was rather short (it is only a small place really more of a village) and by the time we had fed Bob’s ATM addiction, picked up our bits and bobs from the very busy Chinese supermarket, the timing had all gone awry for any thought of supper so we are back on the boat planning an evening on board.  It is giving us time to reconsider our cunning plan and we have decided to drop into Statia as our next port of call.  Mr Doyle says it is very interesting from a historical perspective and, as it is Dutch, we are shuffling the dollars to the back and bringing out the euros.