Preflight

It seemed appropriate to use a sunset as marking the end of the dreaded quarantine period. It is good to have put that behind us. Lambert Bay needs to be a memory, not a fact. We are not too far from Beef Island, it being visible to our right from the patio. Carol raised an interesting point: we have seen several boats move towards the passage between Beef Island and Tortola; they have not returned. Were they taking a shortcut to get from the north side of the island to the marinas in Roadtown. The answer is not clear, to me anyway. That passage is very shallow, not passable with a sailboat, but maybe with a catamaran or a smaller fishing vessel.

Carol thought that this rainbow was important. Having just read about 1,000 pages of Rome in the time of Caesar, Pompey and Cicero, it was hard to reject the issue of auguries, always observed, but seldom taken seriously by the Romans. So, maybe, this is a harbinger of better days; or, maybe not. Regardless, we got our 2nd Covid test results, negative, and our travel certificate. Then to the police station to be official, which we now are. So, the end of the beginning, this beginning stretching into mid 2019. Take a deep breathe and exhale very slowly.

Having mentioned unusual amenities at this resort, we saw a new one today. This saurian creature walked by our patio, not much disturbed by our presence. We had last seen such beasties in January of 2012 on SW Allen's Cay in the Bahamas. Ugly then, ugly now.

We are now at the Moorings hotel, which is integrated with the marina. And, there are now issues, albeit minor compared to that which has preceded. We had been promised that we could store a few things prior to boarding, get them out of the hotel room. Well, things change and that is only a memory. Not a problem. We will cope.

While Carol was out doing Carol stuff, I had a walkabout at the marina. I still love looking at boats, that will probably never change. But, I did not have the compulsion to own one; that seems to be out of my system, fortunately. I was surprised by the boat inventory: many more catamarans than monohulls, maybe a 2:1 ratio; the boats were humongous, including the catamarans, some going to 58-ft. I saw two 38-ft. boats, only one of which said the Moorings. So, unless the boat we will be on is on a charter, that is likely to be the one. I couldn't help feeling that with our small charter we were ruining the property values.

Lots of stuff has changed since our boat was manufactured in 2002. Today, every monohull I have seen here has two helms (i.e. a steering wheel). I can see no practical reason for that to be the case. One of the helms will will lack visibility to the chart plotter and other instruments. It also seems to me that boat handling in close quarters will be harder from not standing on the centerline. On the other hand, maybe I am a 74 year old guy who has not kept up with the times.

Granted, it has been three decades since we were here, but I am having a serious case of cognitive dissonance, my memory being challenged by what I see around me. The city center of Roadtown might be about 2/3's the size of downtown Asheville, stretched out between the water's edge and the steeply rising hills behind. It has traffic lights, roundabouts and some multilane roads. In other, it's a regular city, just not a huge one. I remember no such thing. There were no paved roads, sand was everywhere, palm trees were prominent, it was uncluttered with building the kind of which are here. Best guess, maybe the marina was in a different location in those days.

Memory is a curious thing. It is possible to know something, be aware of it, but, still need to be reminded about it. Carol's purview is the galley, also called a kitchen. Over our boating years bartending has devolved to the galley, it being the location of ice, tonic water, glasses, and, finally, but not necessarily, gin. I know that she has a very heavy hand in the ratio of gin to tonic, especially with my drinks. I know all of this, I do, And, still, I seem to be surprised when one of her drinks knocks me onto my skinny ass. Maybe she is trying to have her way with me; perhaps it is that she wants me to relax, which I cannot avoid. Regardless, I do sleep well at night as long as I limit myself to a single one of her creations. Carol has rescued the trip having found a store that sells Tanqueray gin.

This is the view from the balcony, here in Roadtown. I have been watching the marina activity below. The mostly empty pier to the left seems to be the area from sending charters off and having them return. The concourse between the rows of bows is extremely wide, wide enough that any shaky boat handling starts will not end up in collisions. It's pretty simple to tell a boat's status: if white folks are on it, a charter coming or going; if black folks, then the boat is being moved about the marina.

Hard to see, but houses start in the flat area and go up the mountain. Higher is almost certainly more expensive, nicer, and bigger. It's hard not to think about H.G. Wells' eloi and morlocks. Maybe his purpose was to highlight the social differences at the end of that era.

Well, there has been a new twist, an unexpected turn of events. Carol managed to trip, somehow, and must have landed on her face. Stitches in her lip; a cracked tooth. Tomorrow will be many things, but it is unlikely to be the 1st day of our trip.