Copyright and credit George or Paul, 2011

As those following our progress via SPOT tracking saw, we had a glorious first night on the hook in the Grenadines a week ago.  It was time – George and I had fun trading 4 hour shifts for the previous 4 days straight, but were pleased to sleep uninterrupted through the night for a change.

And yes, that is two hours adrift on our track, just 8 miles from anchor.  Funny story…

You know when victory (if I may call it that) seems so close you can taste it, you’ve hoisted the lovely blue and yellow and green flag of the vessel’s new home, and you start getting excited, and toasting each of your previously departed crewmembers in absentia, and counting the minutes until you’ll finally be anchored and diving from the deck into the cool Caribbean waters of a tranquil cove?  And you know how you want to temper that excitement with the realities of sailing, more specifically motoring, and a healthy respect for the growing level of salt water in your fuel/water separator/filter from the wave you took across the deck while refueling underway the previous evening?  So you open the drain valve at the base of the filter, carefully holding a mostly-empty coke bottle beneath it (the same way you did that morning), and – when nothing drains – unscrew the valve a bit more… when suddenly the entire reservoir drains in one go, water and contaminants and, yup, fuel – whoosh!  And you immediately wonder how long it’ll take, at the current RPMs, for that nugget of not-so-combustible air to travel the rest of the distance of the fuel supply line to the injectors and cylinders… (answer: about 20 seconds at idle)

Suffice it to say, we know a bit more now about bleeding the low pressure fuel supply system.  At least the relevant bits to get the job done…  And all things considered, flat calm seas are about the best you could hope for, in such a circumstance… (Well – so long as the 3 knot current you’re in is pushing you out to sea, and not into an island or reef.  Then I’d prefer a breeze by which to sail…)

Saturday we cleared in, the final country of entry for La Paloma.  Pretty exciting, although it took a while to sink in (we often turned to each other and said: “Dude – we’re in St. Vincent and the Grenadines.  We’re.  Here.”).  On some level I relaxed, breathed a two-month sigh of relief.  And I immediately started losing my ability to pre-plan, retain or attend to relevant logistic details, and began requiring 11+ hours of sleep each night.  (We walked to the airport on Union with the express intent of clearing in, noting the small premium we’d pay since it was the weekend.  I knew I had no cash, yet walked right by the bank and ATM.)

We spent a couple nights on the hook in the Tobago Cays in the heart of the Grenadines, swimming with turtles and rays, relaxing and celebrating the journey.  We had a curious inability to relate much or converse well with some of the early-season tourists and charterers around us.  On some level, I feel like I would have loved someone to ask where we were from, or about the vessel’s home port, and get to gush about the adventures.  But on another level it was great to be anonymous, unnoticed and undisturbed.

We hit a few of the nicer spots I know of, snorkeled and napped and read and slept and cleaned and organized and tried our best to make a dent in the remaining provisions.  (Jon, again: Amazing job on the initial provisioning!)  We island and anchorage-hopped our way up to St. Vincent, crossing from Bequia on Wednesday morning.  Winston dinghy’d out past the reef to greet us, and escorted us into the Blue Lagoon and onto a mooring ball.  Our friends at TMM were warm and welcoming, eager to hear about the trip, and eager for us to get our hair and beards cut.

Yesterday afternoon, after a day and a half of cleaning stuff from the trip off the boat and final labeling and fixing and organizing, I locked the companionway and we dinghy’d back to TMM.  I handed over the keys.  The Dove is in her new home!  And she’s already being considered in response to a few early-season inquiries – here’s hoping…!

This morning, as our flight took off and banked hard-left to hook up toward St. Lucia, we looked directly down out the port side of the plane onto the Blue Lagoon, and saw the boat gently rolling and bobbing on the ball.

I have to thank everyone for their support and encouragement.  Most of all, I can’t praise the crew enough: Jon, Brian, Matthew, George – you’re incredible!  Thank you so much.  Thank you for getting the dove safely to her new home.  Thank you for making this trip not just spectacular, but astounding!  Thank you for the long hours on watch, for the time and money you committed, for putting up with my attitude… thank you for everything!!!!!  And thanks for all the fish…

Anchored: Chatham Bay, Union Island… St. V & Grenadines! Surreal, perhaps better processed after sleep. Bri, Jon, Matthew: Wish you were here!