Prologue<br><br>I am a great trip planner. Depending on who you are in relation to me, this can be a wonderful thing, or it can be a pain in the butt. If you’re my husband – my main travel companion -- it is both, because you get the benefit of all of my well-made arrangements, but you also have to live with my lists and preparations.<br><br>Planning a trip is a pleasure to me, and it makes the anticipation of a journey much more tolerable. This is especially so if I am returning to a well-loved place. I can project myself into the places I hope to find myself, from arrival to departure. This does not mean that I live with rigid itineraries; it is more a matter of knowing what the options are at any given time or mood or circumstance.<br><br>And so it was that I planned a sailing charter in the Abacos for the first week of November 2001. It was to be mine and Captain Rick’s first vacation without friends or family in a few years, as well as our first couple-only sail. We’d been doing all the work on past charters, while catering to our friends’ expressed and un-expressed expectations, and it was time to treat ourselves. As well, the events of recent months, as well as our own stresses at work, made an escape all the more important to us.<br><br>The day before departure, Friday, November 2, didn’t start too well. I was sick, really sick, with a horrible sinus infection. I’d been watching the weather with trepidation, as a tropical depression was gathering strength. And then the coup de grace: an e-mail from our charter company’s owner letting us know we were still welcome to come to the Abacos – he was going to be throwing a hurricane party and could probably get us some hotel rooms – but sailing would be problematic for at least part of our precious week. So Rick and I called down to Marsh Harbour to get the scoop. Yes, we could come down, but Sail Abaco would be flexible with us if we chose not to. So, having already experienced a hurricane-interrupted charter in the BVI in 1998, we decided to get out of harm’s (i.e. Michelle’s) way and go somewhere else. There was NO WAY we were not going to go somewhere, as vacation weeks for me and my husband are just too hard to come by with our over-committed lives.<br><br>Immediately, I started surfing the travel websites to see what kind of airfares could be had to the islands on short notice. Not good, with most coming in over $1,000 with awful itineraries. Then I thought of the Moorings … maybe they had some of their great airfares left, and maybe they had a boat available. And sure enough, they did. Wonderful Turah in their home office set us up with great airfare to St. Thomas with a decent itinerary, a room at the Mariner Inn for our first night, and a Moorings 352 for the week. Meanwhile, I re-booked my air and charter boat for the Abacos for next June.<br><br>Of course, making such a dramatic change spun my sick head around. My obsessive need for planning would not be met, but at least we know the BVI well, having sailed here three times before and even having a reasonably current chart and cruising guide on hand at home. And I could use my grocery list for the Abacos down here, and handle my own provisioning in what are likely better-stocked stores. Freed from the constraints of entertaining our crews, and hitting those first-, second- or even third-timer must-see spots, we could sail wherever we wanted. My only real problem, at least for the first few days, was this feeling of unreality: Why am I in Roadtown instead of Hopetown? Why is the water 60 feet deep instead of 15 feet? Why am I drinking Carib instead of Kalik? This soon faded away. Island time is island time, regardless of the venue, and it didn’t take long to make the shift.<br><br>So here is my abbreviated report, hitting the highlights. I will post a full report, with photos, on my website, and will provide the link when that is done, for those gluttons for detail who want it. In the meantime, ask any questions and add any observations you wish…<br><br>Day 1 – Saturday November 3<br><br>Up at 3:30 a.m. to get ready for our limo pick up at 4 a.m. Starting at IAD instead of BWI, but still going to MIA, tho’ we are now going to STT (instead of Marsh Harbour). I haven’t slept at all with this sinus infection. Car picks us up right on time, and soon we are standing in the long lines at the American ticket counter. Get through in 45 minutes (checking in PLUS changing our Abaco tickets over to next June), with another 20 minutes to get through security. Much better than reports at BWI, and everyone is in good spirits. Take off on time and land early in MIA (sinus misery), the better to make our tight connection and grab a “lunch” of an ice cream bar (lines for the other excuses-for-food in this terminal are too long, and no meal service on the flight).<br><br>Arrive in STT early and get our bags in record time. Grab a taxi to get to Smith’s ferry (having called them the day before to confirm times), but the driver has other plans for us, insisting there is no ferry from Charlotte Amalie to Tortola and that we must go to Red Hook. Sorry bud, you are either mistaken or hoping to take advantage of us, and in any event you aren’t getting that big fare. Get out of that taxi and grab another to make the 3:30 ferry to West End. Meet two couples whose names we don’t find out until much later – later learn they will be sailing Jubilee out of the Moorings, and that’s the only identification we will need. Immigration and customs at West End much easier than at the airport. Grab the Moorings van and by 5:30, we are at the Moorings base.<br><br>The reception desk at the Mariner Inn has no record of us. This is (so far) our only glitch. Show them my fax confirmation, and they give us a choice of one of back rooms, or to wait for one of the harbour rooms to be made up. I just want to drop my bags and get some dinner, so we take a back room. Dump our stuff, grab a Painkiller at the bar (the Jubilee gang are there too) and catch a glimpse of the Weather Channel. Hurricane Michelle is strengthening and heading for the Keys and the Bahamas. We made the right choice. Grab a taxi to C&F for dinner, which we share with Conrad and Desiree from San Diego who are ending their charter today. Invite them to join us for dinner and we de-brief them about their charter and swap sailing stories. Am too sick to enjoy my dinner fully, but I’m in paradise now and things are looking better.<br><br>Day 2 – Sunday November 3<br><br>Lousy night of sleep, but already my ills are abating. Funny how salt air and humidity cure me. Think my doc could write a permanent prescription? Think my insurance company will let me fill it? While the reception desk last night had no record of us, Moorings customer service does. We are on Cocoon, a Moorings 352. Briefing at 8:30, the usual spiel by Julian, who always makes me feel like “every little t’ing, it’s gonna be all right.” We ask him if they will let us go to Anegada, knowing full well the Moorings’ requirements of having been there before with a skipper or on a flotilla (and having no intention of doing either). He said OK. I guess having a track record helps and we sign the required waiver.<br><br>Rick checks out the boat, while I do the provisions. Decide I can’t bear taxi-ing to and from Riteway, so I hit the K-Mark store on the base. Am actually able to get most stuff on my list (alas, no conch or grouper, but this ain’t de Bahamas, mon). Prices about 50% more than home. It’s pretty cool to be able to push your grocery cart down the docks to your boat. We load her up and get our boat briefing. Real refrigeration; sweet! But this boat has been ridden hard and put up wet; pretty tired cosmetic condition for a 3 year old although all systems (except electrical – more on that later) work well. By 11:30 we are off.<br><br>Since I’m sick and worn out from the day’s activity, we decide to take it easy tonight and head for The Bight at Norman Island. Grab a mooring and have dinner out. Easy on both the Captain and the Galley Slave. Made it onto a mooring by 3:00 (who is on the next one over but Jubilee), and dink over to Billy Bones to pay for the mooring, have a drink, and make dinner reservations. Rick snorkels the Caves while I wait in the dinghy, chatting with the lady in the next dinghy over, who it turns out is the 5th member of Jubilee’s crew whom we hadn’t met yet.<br><br>Went to the Willie T for drinks, but it was mobbed with motorboats and looked like a singles scene. This has its time and place, but not for us tonight, so we got to Billy Bones instead. Meet a crew from Idaho on Esprit Liberte and have a great chat with them (Rick was born in Idaho – how many people do you know who share that distinction?). Great dinner. Jubilee gave up on the Willie T as well and end up at Billy Bones. Back at the boat, we hang out on the swim platform, swirling our toes around to stir up the bioluminescence. Stars in the water to match the stars in the sky.<br><br>A difficult night to sleep. The noise at the Willie T goes on all hours, and the first night aboard is always a bit of a challenge.<br><br>(To be continued)<br><br><br><P ID="edit"><FONT SIZE=-1><EM>Edited by Administrator on 12/10/01 02:52 PM.</EM></FONT></P>
