Blue Christmas

After the ARC+ prize giving, we sailed past St. Lucia’s Pitons bound for the island of St. Vincent. The arrival into Blue Lagoon Marina was novel. We entered the south reef channel, which is so narrow and shallow, yachts are required to pay a local pilot to guide them. Our deep drought (2.6 m) also posed potential risks as the channel is 2.5 - 2.8 meters deep. Needless to say, we held our breath all the way down channel and didn’t exhale until we were securely tied up in our marina berth. Waiting for us on the dock were our Aussie mates from Cuvee with whom we had sailed the first leg of the ARC+.

Wild Spirit and Cuvee spent two weeks buddy sailing in St. Vincent and the Grenadines, including the spectacular islands of Bequia, Mustique and the Tobago Cays. We let ourselves be mesmerized by the crystal blue hues surrounding us in those Caribbean waters.

It was a blue Christmas in the Caribbean without family to share the holiday. We consoled ourselves, however, with our feet in the white sand on the idyllic shoreline of Salt Whistle Bay (also known as Carnash Bay) on the island of Mayreau in the Tobago Keys. Foamy waves caressed our sandy toes as we sipped icy cold bubbly and tucked into a surplus of freshly grilled lobster overrun with melted butter. Yes, Christmas was a struggle, but somehow we managed.

We also managed to repeat the Christmas feast on Boxing Day. Sometime after lunch, Kevin and I decided we needed a change of scenery.

“Let’s go to the next island over,” Kevin said. “Let’s see what’s there.”

Petit Rameau island is a short two NM jaunt, close enough to take the dinghy.

As we were getting into our dinghy, Trish from Cuvee shouted from their neighboring anchorage.

“Where are your life jackets? You should wear them, you know.”

Kevin nodded from the dinghy and pulled the outboard cord. The engine roared. She was right of course, but I knew he wouldn’t want to go back inside the cabin to fetch them.

“We’ll keep an eye out for you,” Trish said. “Have you got your VHF radio with you? Better take it. You never know.”

She was right again.

I nodded to Trish, climbed back aboard and raced down to the nav station to get the handheld radio. Although we’d never taken a radio in the dinghy before, it seemed like a sensible thing to do. After seeing Rob and Trish don their life vests every time they got into their dinghy, I felt reckless not following suit. It certainly couldn’t hurt to carry a radio. I climbed back in the waiting dinghy and we were away.

Halfway into the journey, however, the outboard fuel tank sputtered.

“Sounds thirsty,” I said.

Distracted by thoughts of adventure, Kevin had forgotten to refill the outboard before we took off. We found ourselves a half kilometer from shore up the proverbial creek. At least we had a paddle—oars to be precise.

Despite the strong breeze, Kevin’s muscles rowed us to shore. Meanwhile, I fretted. Apparently, we were fine for now, but what about later? How would be get back to the boat? Where would we find petrol? What if it got dark? Only at our friends’ insistence had we carried the VHF radio with us. Feeling hopeful, I turned it on. Crickets. Apparently, we were out of range, unable to contact Cuvee.

My anxiety shot through the roof. I worried all the way to shore. On shore, I worried some more. Meanwhile, Kevin secured the dinghy to a rock and strolled happily down the white sand beach. I paced up and down, back and forth between palm trees looking for someone we could possibly call on for help. Oblivious to my distress, Kevin made himself at home at a waterfront picnic table in the sand at Alphonso’s BBQ. According to him, a cold beer was in order. Not worried at all.

I continued to fret for both of us. I fretted all the way up until an enormous plate of multiple lobsters arrived in front of us.

After eating all the lobster we could bear, we weighed anchor, said farewell to Tabago Cays and sailed back to Rodney Bay, St. Lucia to welcome 2020. After a beautiful meal at The Landings with our Aussie mates, we rang in the New Year on the beach with a champagne toast to new adventures.