March 15^th, 0400

On night watch.  Still sad about leaving Dominica.  We are on our way to Antigua.  We pass Deshies, Guadeloupe and I consider popping in for some crepes (hey.  It’s not easy getting yourself to chuckle out loud at 4am).  Just the thought of crazy Guadeloupe brought a smile to my face and helped me get through the long night on watch.  Apparently, enough time has lapsed to make our mis-adventures in the French islands seem funny.  At 0550, Chris came on deck and we changed watches.  Chris sailed us into Falmouth Harbor 5 hours later and found a secure spot to anchor off the beach.

Falmouth is so pretty.  As a bonus, it is full of gorgeous classic boats and megayachts.  The first boat we saw was Bryson Hall’s old boat, s/v Abracadabra.  We raced on this boat back in the 90’s.  We had a particularly rowdy time doing the Nantucket Gold Regatta with my friend Stephanie Altman, to whom we introduced racing, mudslides, and “afterparties”.

The next boat we saw was the world’s 15^th largest yacht, “A”, a 390’ 5” boat owned by Russian billionaire Andrey Melnichenko.  The hull design is unique.  We noticed the retractable surveillance cameras and wondered how much just that one feature must have cost.

Around the corner sat beautiful Talitha, a 1929-built 247’ sailing yacht.  It sits at spot 94 on the Top 100 list, but must have been pretty high up there for a long time!  We have now seen 6 of the top 100 largest yachts.  Read more about them on: http://www.boatinternational.com/yachts/the-register/top-100-largest-yachts/.

We headed to the dinghy dock and walked down the road to nearby English Harbor.  I silently hoped that the bakery I had read about would be open.  And the ice cream place.  We checked into the country at Customs and Immigration and I got in a Mean Stare Fight with some rude French women who insisted on standing 3 centimeters from me while I entered our information on the computer.  I’m thinking about getting a t-shirt that says, “I Love Crepes”.  Just to confuse them.

The English Harbor waterfront is seeped in history.  This harbor was a major port for hundreds of years and was carefully reconstructed and restored to preserve its memory for future generations.  The museum near the docks displayed artifacts found in the area, furniture, paintings, and displays that explained the roles of big shots such as Lord Nelson and other famous captains, admirals, and leaders during the time of England’s naval dominance.  We got our fill of history and then wandered around, looking at all the restored sail lofts, homes, and shops.

 

On the way back to the boat, we found the local produce lady on the side of the road.  I almost screamed with delight when I saw a mound of gorgeous avocados.  “Take a picture!  Take a picture!” I screamed automatically.  Then I realized we could actually buy some.  Happy Conways!  They still aren’t in season, but we are north enough in the Caribbean to get produce that has been shipped in from elsewhere.  Our days of eating completely local were over, but we were going to have guacamole that night, so it was kinda hard to care!

We took the kayak and paddleboard into the beach and enjoyed playing and swimming all afternoon.  We were thrilled when we learned that our Salty Dawg friends on s/v Evenstar and s/v Troubador were in the harbor.  The kids were excited to play with their friend Danielle and the next day we baked muffins for breakfast, they did school and we had more beachtime.

 

 

 

I had threatened the kids that I was going to throw away their lifetime supply of Bazooka bubblegum if they didn’t start eating it.  It was taking up too much space in our snack cabinet and wasn’t weathering the salt air well.  Reese hid herself behind a blockade and surprised us with a glitter-lined contest board, challenging us to eat as much gum as possible for the week, with bonuses for the biggest bubbles blown.  Chris won in all categories!

I had come down with whatever strange virus had caused Chris to miss Carnival back in Carriacou.  I was utterly exhausted and missed big chunks of our time in Antigua.  I did manage to pull it together so that we could rent a car and take our own driving tour of the island.  First we went zip-lining, for we had found a place that would allow Porter to try it out.  After the first zipline, which sent screams through the tops of the trees, he decided he loved it.

 

Next, we drove through the south part of the island, enjoying the views of the turquoise waters.  I thought to myself how funny it was that we had rented a car to see the island and we were drawn to the coast, enjoying most the views of the water upon which we live.  I laughed as I thought, “We could have just sat on the boat and looked at the water!”

 

Driving on the left side of the road, on the right side of the car is hard enough. I kept panicking when I saw this sign, thinking I’m NOT supposed to be doing “something”. Turns out it means “No Stopping”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We headed on to the town of St. Johns, stopped at a field to watch a cricket game, and then traversed the country to see Devil’s Bridge.  This forlorn piece of land juts out into the ocean.  It is pummeled by the waves day in and day out, as it has been for thousands of years.  The water, in its strength and persistence, has carved the land into jagged edges.  Blow holes shoot water skyward when the swiss cheese rocks create a suction from the waves crashing into the shore.

We all loved the raw, powerful beauty of this spot and it was worth the long drive to get there.  Once again, I smiled as I looked at the map and realized the transformation that had occurred.  An hour before, Devil’s Bridge was a just a little red star on the map of Antigua; a line in the cruiser’s guide under “Attractions”.  Now it was a real place.  A real image was burned in my mind, complete with sounds and smells and memories.  When I look at a map of Antigua now, I recall that place in my memory, but I also stop to think about how that place is still there, with the waves pounding away at the shore.  Right now.

 

 

 

After lunch at La Tortaruga, on a resort-filled beach, we headed back to the boat to shower and dress in our St. Patrick’s Day finest.  We met Evenstar and Troubador and drove our rented car up the hill to Shirley Heights.  We were all keen to check off another “Must-Do” from our cruiser’s guide.  Every Sunday, tourists, locals, and cruisers meet at the top of this hill for socializing, steel pan music, and a great barbecue.  The views and sunset rival that of Key West.  It is truly spectacular to watch the sun disappear beyond the harbor, town, and the sea.

We listened to the best steel pan music I had ever heard.  The kids ran to a wide green field and found a gang of instant friends.  We sat at the edge of the cliff and enjoyed a cocktail as the sun began its slow descent.  Time slowed down in order to allow us all to soak it in.  Not a bad way to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.  After the sunset, we mosied over to the barbecue and got plates of ribs, burgers, salad, and rice n beans.

Usually, when I am in a big crowd, I get a little overwhelmed, especially if food is involved.  “Where are the kids?  Did everyone get food?  Where are we all going to to sit?  Oh man, there’s no place for the five of us to sit.  Now what are we going to do?  I’m NOT eating standing up.”  I’m not sure where this little quirk comes from, but it’s pretty annoying.  I noticed that feeling coming up, and decided that the night was just too lovely to get all bunched up inside.  I decided to think positively and just go with whatever happened.

We couldn’t find seats to sit with Troubador and Evenstar, but we did find a picnic table with exactly five seats available.   I breathed a sigh of relief.  The folks at our table ended up being soooo lovely and we enjoyed eating together and chatting.  Within minutes, we discovered that Erica, in addition to having a totally awesome name, is also from New Jersey, and her husband is from Long Island, like me.  Erica grew up about 7 minutes away from our house.  Small world!  The rest of the night was fun and relaxed, with the kids playing and the adults conversing about future sailing plans.

 

The next day, s/v Cascadura sailed into town and we had a great time with them, going for ice cream and getting dragged behind their dinghy on a tube.

We moved to Jolly Harbor for a night so that we could hit the good grocery store and check out of the country.  The kids did schoolwork while I rested.  I still wasn’t feeling well.  Chris surprised us with steak for dinner.

 

Deep Bay was like going on vacation for a few days (believe it or not, we work really hard to make this lifestyle work. I leave out a lot of the details about that!).  We pulled into this picture perfect, quiet little harbor, making sure not to sail into the shipwreck that slightly sticks out of the water in the center of the harbor entrance.  We anchored and took a deep breath as we looked around.  A fort lay on the high hill to the left.  Giorgio Armani’s beautiful home sat on the well-groomed hill to the right.  A white sand beach stretched out in between the two hills.  This was going to be a lovely place to stay…

We snorkeled on the wreck of the Andes, dinghied to the beach, and climbed up to the fort.  That night, we had tacos and celebrated Bryson’s half birthday with a half of a cake and singing the first syllable of each word in Happy Birthday To You.

 

 

 

 

 

The next morning, we raced through schoolwork.  I swam from the boat to the beach and back.  It was a long way in and I felt great completing such a big swim.  Chris did some electrical work and topped off the oil in the water pump.  We packed a picnic lunch and hiked back up to the fort to enjoy our food while looking over the bay.  The kids raced around and then we did some daring yoga poses on the edge of the cliff to appreciate our sense of balance.

 

 

Back at the beach, Chris and I parked ourselves on beach chairs with our books, a rarity while cruising with kids.  We played music on our portable speakers.  The kids built sand houses, complete with shell furniture.  Porter practiced his swimming.  We watched the Swedish family down the beach and I contemplated walking up to them to practice my Swedish.  But I was just too comfortable to move and my book was out of control good (At Home, Bill Bryson).

We had experienced it all in Antigua: historic seaports, pristine beaches, an awesome party, and spending time with friends.  Our time in Falmouth was busy, interesting, and vibrant.  Our time in Deep Bay was relaxing, serene, and full of beauty.  In both places, we experienced what Antigua had to offer together-enjoying each other’s company, laughing together, and talking about all the new things we were experiencing.  Everything about our time in Antigua symbolized the reasons we embarked upon this journey.