I spent quite a few nights anchored in front of the beach in Smugglers Cove - Bob would stand on the beach and guide us in through the reef or tell us via radio that the swell would be to0 bad for an overnight there.
Many an evenings cocktail with Bob and Nell was shared with them back in the 70's and early 80's and Bob would always come over for the Ham Radio Club meetings at Quarterdeck in Frenchtown STT. You left your money under the rock at the rickety bar on the beach at Smugglers and got the beers out of an ancient refrigerator that was always badly in need of defrosting - Bob told us when the power is out it defrosts itself so why hurry the process.
The hills of Tortola were all covered in small squares of fenced lots growing vegetables or grazing cows, goats or chickens. A real patchwork quilt look to the hillsides of varying greens and browns viewed from the sea sailing by.
Thanks for posting the article - a fun reminiscing read.
On my 1st West End ferry arrival I learned that a Tortola Breakfast was coffee and Heineken -- " hot coffee and cold cereal mon, start the day right"