It was gala dinner night last night.  Kenroy picked us up, all on his own, does he feel safe with us now?  We headed once more for the hills up a very steep road known as Malady, from the French mal idee, and you could see why.  It twisted and turned and used every bit of power that Kenroy’s engine could provide.  Suddenly we reached the peak and cruised down the other side into a valley where stood an old stone farmhouse which is now a restaurant called The Old Stone Farmhouse.  It was very rustic with enormous charm, the stone exposed and decoration simple so that it kept it’s character.  We ordered from Tim, “our waiter tonight”, and decided to go the American way (when in etcetera) of having a starter, a salad and then a main.  We both chose the crab stuffed artichoke hearts which were very tasty and ordinary, ie not terrifyingly enormous, portions.  I had a watermelon salad prettily arrayed along a long plate and Bob the green salad neatly in the middle of a sensible sized plate.  Our mains arrived and mine was a delicious fish I have never heard of before, Canadian something (on a Caribbean island surrounded by fish, why?) and Bob went for lobster pasta which was good (although it generated a lot of discussion on what Americans call a pastor if they call their pasta the same thing).  Bob seemed to find room for pud and opted for a really tasty bread pudding, nothing like bread and butter pudding, more a Christmas pudding spicy cake which he paired with a rather nice glass of Muscat.  Well, the Muscat arrived but Tim was far too busy having cosy chats elsewhere to serve the pud.  It came eventually and was very tasty, nicely presented the haute cuisine way, but it cried out for a good blob of ice cream.  I couldn’t manage a pud to myself (I just had a dig at Bob’s) but did squeeze in a rum coffee.  Very, very sweet.  A lovely gala dinner but lacking in those little touches, the napkin in your lap, the (very heavy) chair moved out for you).  Kenroy returned us in one merry piece, still unchaperoned. 

Today has been a getting sorted day, we are off tomorrow.  The spray hood has been removed and collapsed, the bimini put away and any spare ropes bagged up and popped into the cubby holes to keep them safe from Atlantic weather.  The holding tank has been treated, the forward loo cleaned within an inch of its life, the packing done.  Windy is looking very naked and, perched in the cockpit without our covers, we are very exposed. 

We took time off to watch them loading the big ship with its swarm of yachts, its fun to see how it is done, that are headed for Newport, Rhode Island.  It is amazing to see the slings coming down, the diver dropping in and putting them underneath, the trail of yellow ribbons, the graceful ascent and tugging on the yellow ribbons to get each yacht in place.  Mesmerising.  All the while they have loaded this one big ship with lots of yachts there has been a constant stream of container ships moving in, loading up (very high indeed) and creeping out behind my back. 

We are trying to use everything up and Bob seems to have taken this literally.  I have in hand the strongest gin and tonic ever.  We are a bit worried about LIAT getting us to Antigua in time for our flight home but that is just a bridge we will have to cross.  We are making sure that our essential needs are at the top of our suitcase, I don’t suppose we can take the gin.