We stayed at anchor in English Harbour for a few days so that Jon’s parents could recover from their jet lag and get acclimatised to the hot weather. They thoroughly enjoyed the historic surroundings. They bought souvenirs in the museum where Jethro told his grandparents:
“This is the pirates House.”
Tucked away in some more ancient buildings behind the museum was an open air laundry with coin-operated washing machines and rows of washing lines with pegs. What a treat!
The senior Alsop’s came loaded with gifts for birthdays and Christmas from other friends and family as well. I was very pleased they brought the aluminium framed reclining baby seat that used to be Jethro’s . There was even a folding canvas carry cot and our navy corduroy baby sling harness – all very welcome.
Jon carried out few sail repair jobs during this time and actually had to turn away business before we left English Harbour. There would not have been time to completely restitch all of a Canadian’s well used cruising sails before we had to leave. It was good to earn some money again and this held out hope for a regular future income.
Overnight sail to Gustavia
Under way again, it was an overnight sail from the south of Antigua to St Barths. We left at lunchtime sailing on a broad reach throughout the night with a quarter moon. Fads remarked the night sky was noticeably different so much closer to the equator. The moon was more like a saucer lying on its back and the Plough and North Star were way low on the northern horizon.
There was a long Atlantic swell. Jon and his father took alternate two hour watches steering throughout the night whilst Molly Jethro and myself were fast asleep in our bunks. We anchored again in Gustavia by 10 o’clock the next morning, flipping the dead flying fish from the well decks overboard.
Jon and Molly went ashore to get croissants and baguettes and to clear in. Later that day we sat in a pavement cafe sipping chocolate and listening to the strains of Jimmy Buffet singing “Cheeseburger in Paradise” . Apparently he lived on this island. We took Camelot round to the other side of the island to anchor in the Baie St Jean in crystal clear water.
When snorkelling on the reef Jethro showed grandpa the stag-horn coral just like reindeers horns. There were a couple of wrecked aeroplanes to snorkel over which was alarming. The airport had a very short runway. To make landing slightly safer they even closed the ridge road to cars when a plane was coming in to land… obviously some had not made it. Later we used scrubbing brushes to remove the weedy growth from below the waterline. Hundreds of bright blue neon fish came along to gobble up the weed. The same type of fish could be seen whenever the heads were pumped.
Overnight Anegada Passage
Fads plotted the course back to the BVI from St Martin across the Anegada Passage, using the Sombrero Light, dead reckoning and the new French chart. There were huge swells but we were sailing down wind on a broad reach so relatively comfortable. Jon and Fads did their two hour alternate watch system again.
Molly woke up to use the heads in the middle of the night and was alarmed to see the horizon through the deck skylights. I was seven months pregnant by then. I needed to secure myself and my bump with with a Lee cloth to stop me falling out of the saloon berth and wedge myself in with extra pillows.
Once inside the Francis Drake Channel we anchored off Salt Island for a few hours so the men could catch up on their sleep. Meanwhile, Molly Jethro and myself rowed ashore to admire the two large salt ponds and buy some of their seasoned salt. Once a thriving industry supplying sailing ships with salt to preserve food, there were no permanent residents when we visited. The island was more famous for the wreck of The Rhône, on which I had dived many times. We were told about a burial site where bodies from that wreck had been interred after the hurricane in 1867.
By late afternoon we were clearing in again at the West End Immigration desk in Sopers Hole. We stayed at our regular anchorage right up near the sand spit for a couple of nights to enjoy calm waters and for Jon to do some more sail repairs. Fads was busy mending the gaff jaws which had been damaged by an involuntary gybe in the Anagada Passage.
Camelot hits reef in Cane Garden Bay
Gentle cruising to our favourite spots took up the rest of the time with visitors on board. There was one incident that could have been nasty. We were motoring out of Cane Garden Bay with Molly and myself stowing things in our respective cabins down below. Jon was pushing the anchor chain into place in the chain locker right up in the forepeak and Fads was alone at the helm up on the aft deck. Suddenly there was deafening crashing noise and we stopped dead. We had hit the reef!
Jon and I rushed up and deck. Fads was staring back at us wide-eyed and jaw agape with shock. Jon put the engine in reverse and took over the helm from the cockpit wheel by the engine controls. Soon we were back in the channel and we went back to drop the anchor again to check the keel for damage.
Fads, Jon and myself all donned masks and snorkels to look underwater. There seemed to be none, miraculously. If our stem had been made of glass fibre instead of solid teak it could have been a different story.
The entrance channel between two reefs was not buoyed back then. According to the cruising guide safe passage was found by lining up the saddle between Jost Van Dyke and Little Jost to the north west, and the radio masts on top of Sage Mountain on Tortola. We thought we had explained this to Fads but obviously we had not. That afternoon we swam again to look at the hull in Brewers Bay and were relieved to confirm there really was no harm done.
The decision to stay in Tortola for the birth had been made. I was familiar with the anti natal clinic there and the hospital. Julia had already gone back to England to have her second child there, taking James with her for a holiday with his grandparents. Jeremy invited us over to his place for a very welcome bath for me and a barbecue supper for us all. Molly and Fads bought tickets back to Antigua from Beef Island to connect with their return flight to London.
On 12th February we waved goodbye to Jon’s parents as they left on a DC3 from Beef Island. It had been a very successful visit, and they would be back several more times before we were done. Jethro was bereft at their departure. He had lived in the same village as them since birth and formed a strong attachment. That night the old “Out of your mouth story” was reversed. As he lay in bed clutching Kermit and the Tonka truck I had to tell him,
“Grandma and Grandpa were going up the steps to the British Airways Jumbo Jet in Antigua.”
“Yes and then what happens?”
“The Stewardess shows them which way to get to their seats. Then they stow their hand luggage in the overhead lockers and sit down to fasten their seat belts…”. This went on for a week.
Lots of job offers
Sail repair work and seam re-stitching for cruising boats was plentiful whenever we anchored in the outer islands. One day a whaler came alongside while Jon was working at the sewing machine in the cockpit. He was hailed
“Ahoy there Camelot.”
It was Bill Bullimore the English guy who ran BVI Sailmakers in Road Town. At first Jon thought he was going to complain about him having the audacity to carry out sail repairs…. But no.
“I’d like you to come and work with me, “ he explained. “ I need an experienced sailmaker to help me expand. I would get you a work permit.”
Jon’s first thoughts were negative. He thought we could make a good living on board, perhaps in St Barths as Lou Lou had suggested, and where work permits were not required. On the other hand he did not speak French and we had established a good circle of friends in the BVI by then.
At the end of February I had another anti natal session and was shown round Peebles Hospital so I knew where to go when the time came. The delivery room was adjacent to Mens Surgical on the top floor of the new building.
Skippering Charter Boats?
Camelot was anchored right at the top of West End in 40 feet of calm water near the sand spit, near to where the drag line was dredging. Jon was working on sails and awnings for the Fleet Indigo charter company. They asked him if he would be prepared to do some skippering for $45 a day. One job on offer was 4 guests for 8 days and another 6 guests for 5 days. And the tips were usually generous.
It seemed the need for a skipper only became apparent at the pre-sail briefing. That was when the Charter Company realised some guests did not know an anchor winch from an anxious wench! Jon declined because he did not want to leave me alone with Jethro for days on end so late in my pregnancy.
Mack and Mo were back on their mooring there. I discovered that Mo ran an Alcoholics Anonymous club in Road Town every Thursday. She admitted that the problem started when they were in St Lucia twelve years before. She joined AA in London whilst they were building Endeavour. With spirits being so cheap in the Caribbean it is an easy slippery slope.
On board their yacht they had a twelve inch black and white television…what a treat! They could watch BBC programmes via an American Educational network such as Rompold of the Bailey! They regularly watched M*A*S*H.
Mo told me she had been into Road Town to have a skin cancer operation to her temple by local anaesthetic performed by the sailing doctor Robin Tattershall.
When our permits needed to be renewed we went off to the USVI again for a few days. In Charlotte Amalie we saw a massive aircraft carrier The America at anchor. I bought some cotton fabric remnants at 50 cents a yard to make a couple of loose maternity dresses. I also found a huge tea shirt that had writing saying in large letters “I am a Virgin” then in smaller letters “Islander.” And in tiny print below that in brackets “and this is a very old tee shirt”. Quite apt for a very pregnant woman.
We went to the anchorage off Christmas Cove again. Jon did some sail repair work for a German gentleman, Walter, who left his dinghy with a 6hp Evenrude outboard alongside. He kindly allowed Jethro to sit in it “brum brumming” to himself happily, just holding the handle and wearing his life jacket, grinning from ear to ear.
Jon acquired a used surfboard from another yachtsman there which needed some restoration but he soon had it up and running.
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Mack and Mo’s Endeavour under sail, that spar at the stern is a bumpkin. Jethro liked that word, “bum kin, bum kin,” he giggled.
Back on Tortola Mack and Mo invited us to join them for a day sail with four other friends. We went across to Little Jost Van Dyke and did some snorkelling. We spotted a school of dolphins. There must have been twenty or more. The Americans on board called them porpoises but then I did not know the difference. Mack reached for his cassette player and selected Saturn from the Planet Suite. Those amazing creatures approved the music choice whole heartedly and cavorted for over half an hour.
At the end of March we were sailing from Trellis Bay to Road Town for my weekly anti natal clinic on Main Street at half past eight in the morning . Passing Brandywine Bay suddenly Jon spotted a whale spouting about forty yards off our starboard beam. This was a black hump back whale about forty feet long. We could actually smell its breath, yuk! We cruised in parallel for a couple of hundred yards, gasping in awe. Then some Americans in a charter boat came hollering and Yahooing under full throttle. Dangling cameras they whooped so loudly that the whale submerged and we lost sight.
That whale spotting day happened to be exactly one year since we had bought Camelot. We had a letter from Jon’s father saying, “ My holiday with you all on your beautiful boat was the best month of my entire life….” which was very touching.
