April 9-17

We had an easy sail from St. Maarten to the BVI’s.  I think.  Really, it was so long ago, who can remember?  Our log book just says, “1315: Arrive Soper’s Hole  E to customs.”  We were excited to see our friends, Dave and Lana, who were on their way from Newport, Rhode Island.  We arrived from our 110 mile, 15 ½ hour passage with 4 hours to spare!

I ran into the customs dock to pick up Lana, Dave, and their two boys, Liam and Calan, but their luggage hit a snafu and was on its way to Tortola.  Not the best way to start your vacation!  Dave went off in a taxi to intercept the luggage from the dock in Tortola before it decided to head back to St. Thomas!  As you can see, the boys did not let this mishap dampen their excitement!

 

If you have been following the journey of the conwaysailors since the beginning, you know that our inspiration to take this trip began with a one week cruise in the BVI’s aboard s/v Xanadu, with our friends Bryson and Cindy (who also happen to be from the Newport area).  Dave and Lana had just purchased their very own Beneteau 473 (the same model as Patronus) and are at the very beginning of their family’s cruising experience.  We were excited about the prospect of the BVIs instilling a deep love of Caribbean cruising in them as well.  Who knows?  Maybe they might decide someday to take a voyage of their own?

That said, this IS our third trip to the BVIs.  And if you have been with us since the beginning, you already know about the Soggy Dollar, Painkillers, the Baths, and that Treasure Island was inspired by Norman Island.  You also know that the unbelievable gorgeousity of this magnificent locale keeps my finger on the shutter button.  So I will allow the pictures to tell you a thousand stories…

 

 

 

 

 

 

The week has given us perfect weather and island after island of fun adventures.  We arrived back at the kids’ favorite: The Baths.  If you have never been here, take a look at these natural rock formations.  If you have, you must agree with me that they should be one of the natural wonders of the earth!

 

 

 

 

 

 

April 2-8, 2013

“I’m kind of ashamed to say this, but I just took a bunch of pictures in the bathroom.”

-Shannon, s/v Cascadura (um, me too, Shannon…)

Buckle Up, folks.  We were in St. Maarten for 7 days but somehow managed to see 148 of our best friends, went to 36 happy hours, worked on our generator for 12 days straight, ate 12 crepes a day, and got blown over by a Jet Blue plane.  Yup.  It’s gonna be THAT kind of post…

We left Anguilla at 0615 in order to get to St. Maarten in time for the 0930 bridge opening.  Frankly, St. Maarten sounded like kind of a pain in the butt to me.  French side or Dutch side? (The country is under split rule by France and the Netherlands.)  French bridge or Dutch bridge?  Lagoon or outside?  Just finding a place to park the boat sounded like a hassle and there were fees attached to everything, including a toll for going under the bridge!  But we had LOTS of reasons for going, so we headed over and knew that we would figure it out.

There were heavy seas and rough winds getting there but we arrived with 30 minutes to spare before the bridge opening.  We tooled around the harbor checking out the cool boats and scoping out the hotel where Reese’s friend Kelli would be staying later that week.  Each megayacht was bigger than the next.  We didn’t see any Top 100 boats, but they were all huge and impressive.  It was fascinating to watch the uniformed crews walking with purpose and talking on their radios through headsets.  Theirs is quite a different “sport” than our two-handed crew, where anchoring involves me in a bathing suit, yelling back towards Chris to “Stop the boat!” and one or more kids trying to “help”.

It was finally time to go through the bridge, so we followed a megayacht through.  Watching that boat clear the sides of the drawbridge was not much help in calming our nerves as we “squeezed” through.  We waved to the crowds who come to have a drink while watching the boats arriving and departing and got our first glimpse of the party atmosphere.  It was only 9:30am!

After fueling up and slipping into our slip, we noticed that our next door neighbor was Myananda (great boat name, by the way.  “Ananda” means bliss in Sanskrit.  My Bliss…)  Anyhoo, Myananda was one of the boats that traveled south with us in the Salty Dawg Rally from the US to the BVIs back in November.  I was really starting to love how small the world is.  Unfortunately, Kurt and his wife were not on board.  They had flown back to the states but we hoped we would catch them back before we left.

Our first order of business was to check into the marina.  On the way, Chris ran into the crew from s/v Aftiki, an English family we had met in Dominica.  Our small world was getting smaller.  The next day, we discovered that our friends on  s/v Seaschelle and s/v Cascadura were in the harbor as well!  Plans spread over the VHF and we were already set to go to happy hour the next night at The Barnacle (very cool bar name).

But first Porter and I had to take the dinghy over to the doctor’s office to have his stitches looked at.  Dr. Dannaway was amazing.  He was great with Porter and instantly eased both of our minds.  He explained to Porter that he could go back in the water after two more days.  One of the stitches had fallen out (trying so hard not to be judgmental about Dr. Easter) so he butterflied it and said it looked like it was healing nicely.  He told us to come back in four more days to get the stitches taken out.  Porter and I left happily, holding hands and stopping at the gas station convenience store for treats on the way back to the dinghy.

After lunch, we swam at the marina’s pool.  I was so excited to swim in a pool instead of open water.  I decided I would try to swim every day that we were in St. Maarten.  I started off by swimming ½ mile that day.  I can’t measure my open water swimming, but I think that swim was the longest I had ever done without stopping.  Even better, I felt great at the end of it.  I couldn’t wait to come back the next day and swim some more over those lovely, straight black lines painted on the bottom of the pool!

We were SO excited that night to have our friend Matt Ryffel visit us on Patronus!  Matt and Chris grew up next door to each other.  Matt was the first person we had seen from “home” since we left the United States and my dad flew home after our passage.  Matt quickly dubbed himself “Number One”.  Matt brought goodies and gifts from home.  His suitcase was packed with bills (yuck), peanut butter, batteries, obscure boat parts, gifts from Grandma, Uncle Tom and Aunt Tara, and lots of American items we were having a hard time getting in the Caribbean.  After the dispersement of the gifts, we went off to have a wonderful dinner together at Pineapple Pete’s with Matt.

We spent the next morning doing schoolwork and cleaning up the boat, which is so much more pleasant when we are at a marina and have access to power and water.  Chris dinghied around to the chandleries and after lunch, we went back to the pool.  I did another ½ mile swim while the kids played and splashed with some local kids.  Just call me Erica Phelps.

It was a good thing we had a quiet day because at 5pm, we dinghied over to The Barnacle for Happy (7) Hour(s).  We should have known we were in for a carousing time by the look of the dinghy dock.  This was THE place to be for cruisers.  As we walked up the dock, we could see groups of people at tables, leaning against posts, and standing at the bar.  Their sailing apparel gave them away, if not the fact that one group of people were huddled over an iPad looking at navigational charts and another group was talking very animatedly about the weather.  Only sailors get this whipped into a frenzy about isobars, TROFS, and other fancy weather-talk.

The kids went off running as soon as they saw their friends from Cascadura and Seaschelle.  Chris and I sat down at the spot that was saved for us at the table and we had a lovely reunion with Matt and Erica from s/v Seaschelle, who we last saw in St. Croix on New Year’s Eve, and Kevin and Shannon from s/v Cascadura, who we saw last in St. Lucia.  Of all the people we had met over the year, we were so happy to run into these families again.  We really like them and their great children.

Painkillers and beers were ordered.  Another round.  Did someone from this table order three baskets of French fries?  Where are the kids?  Playing on the dock?  Cool.  Another round please!  It was at this point that Shannon came back from the ladies room and spoke her now famous line, “I’m kind of ashamed to say this, but I just took a bunch of pictures in the bathroom.”  I turned to her, laughed, and said, “Me, too!”  The very cool bathroom was filled with witty one liners, drink recipes, and inspirational quotes.

Not willing to have the night come to an end, but famished beyond belief, we took the party back to Cascadura.  Shannon fed the kids and cooked up some popcorn while they started a movie.  Kevin busted out the single largest bottle of rum I have ever seen in my life.  It took two hands to lift the bottle and I thought he was going to need a funnel to get it in the glass.  We brought over painkiller mix and the party continued.  A few months later, Shannon, who makes jewelry, would have to teach me how to use a crimping tool.  In the meantime, I had to teach her that you have to take the nutmeg OUT of the shell before you grate it over your Painkiller.  We learn something new every day…

The next morning, I had the following conversation with Porter.  A bunch of our friends met us the next day at the beach, but one unnamed parent stayed home to, um, recover:

Porter: Where’s their mom?

Me: She had to stay home.  She is sick.

Porter: What kind of sickness does she have?

Me: Oh, she’s just feeling rundown.

Porter: Really?  ‘Cause last night she was ALL powered up!

 “Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.”  -Thoreau

Before the beach, we picked up Matt at his resort and visited the Butterfly Farm.  It was small and low-key, but we were all blown away by the beauty and variety of butterflies.  Our guide was knowledgable and friendly and the kids were especially intrigued by the area set aside for the cocoons.  I made it my single goal in life to take a picture of one particularly fast blue butterfly.

 

But really we drove all the way across the island for one reason besides spending the day with Matt.  And that was to check out his resort.  We had never been to a clothing optional beach before and were curious about what the vibe was.  We found some beach chairs on the regular public part of the beach and set the kids up with our friends while Matt, Chris and I took a walk to his beach.  It was pretty cool, once we got past one particularly proud man who was reading a book while leaning on a rock with his hips thrust forward.  Geez.

The rest of the day was a blast, spending time with friends, enjoying the water, and eating at a restaurant owned by some New Jersey folks.

 

The next day, we took advantage of having a rental car and got a bunch of errands done.  St. Maarten was the biggest, most developed island we had been to since leaving the United States.  We hit the supermarket (twice), went to the chandleries, found the good wine store, and dropped off some laundry.  I swam ½ mile again and then took the kids to the beach.

At 1700, we found The Buccaneer, a fun outdoor bar and restaurant right on the beach.  We met s/v Cascadura and s/v Amara there.  The restaurant had set up a little outdoor movie theater for the kids, so they were happy as clams.  We sat and ordered up some dinner.  When I got up to go to the restroom, I walked past a couple, looked up at them, and said casually, “Hi Bryson and Cindy!”  Wait.  What?!  Bryson and Cindy are here too!??!  We had a great reunion with them and they ended up joining us all for dinner.  Bryson was racing in a regatta near St. Maarten and Cindy’s family was visiting the island.  The coincidences kept on coming… (Bonus points if you can count all the familiar faces we met in St. Maarten!)

 

We spent the next day hanging out in the cockpit with Bryson and Cindy while we anxiously waited for Kelli to arrive.  Kelli is Reese’s friend from school.  They have both had a tough time being away from each other this year.  We were so excited when Kelli’s grandparents offered to take her to St. Maarten on vacation so that she could visit with Reese.

 

 

 

 

It was a long day, counting the minutes till Kelli arrived.  I got my ½ mile swim in and we cleaned the boat.  Porter and I went back to Dr. Dannoway to get his stitches out, which took all of 2 seconds.  Dr. Dannoway apologized that he only had “dark” BandAids left.  We didn’t realize that they made bandages in different colors for different skin shades.  Cool!  Matt came to visit and have dinner with us and finally Kelli and her grandparents arrived.  It was so wonderful to see Kelli and her family.  Reese and Kelli shared a shy hug and then ½ a second later they were off giggling and talking and scheming and planning.  My heart melted and I was so grateful that Kelli and her family are in our lives.

 

Are they married? Reese cutting Kelli’s waffle for her.

 

The next day was a whirlwind.  Two days left on St. Maarten but we were going to make the most of it.  Kelli was dropped off early and we took her for breakfast at our new favorite creperie.

 

 

 

 

By 0930, we were on the dock by the bridge to watch the boats come through.  We had a secret surprise for the kids that we had been bursting with for days.  Anything Goes had left St. Lucia and was arriving in St. Maarten that day!  As their boat slowly appeared from under the bridge, I heard Reese say, “That looks like Anything Goes.  Wait.  That’s Maggie.  Wait.  What?  That’s ANYTHING GOES!  Did you know they were coming here?!!”  We all started waving frantically and screaming and taking pictures of each other taking pictures.  It was a great moment that probably distracted Craig to no end being as he was negotiating his boat through a narrow bridge opening.

 

 

We jumped in the dinghy and raced after them so that we could say hi and tell them where we were docked.  As soon as they were settled, we all piled onto a bus and went to the “airport beach”.  We had to attempt the fun of standing on the beach at the head of the runway to catch the jetwash as planes landed and took off.  It was loud and incredible.  I’m pretty sure we will be finding sand in our ears for the next three years though!

 

The afternoon was wonderful.  We met up with Bryson and Cindy, took the kids to the pool, and we all piled back to Patronus for dinner.  Kelli slept over, despite being completely exhausted from all the excitement.

 

The next morning, we made blueberry muffins with the girls and met Anything Goes at the pool.  I got my ½ mile swim in before having to leave to check out at customs.  I had done a LOT of swimming that week and felt strong.  I hoped I would have the motivation to keep going once in the open water again.  Chris and I moved Patronus back out under the bridge with Reese and Kelli while the boys hung out with Anything Goes.  We were leaving that night for the British Virgin Islands but the bridge only opens twice a day, so we anchored in the outer harbor.  We met everyone, and I mean everyone, at the Buccaneer, for one last night of fun.  The Kuenzels treated us to a lovely dinner and we all enjoyed the live entertainment while the kids played on the beach.

 

At 9pm, we said all our goodbyes and dinghied back to the boat.  We would see Anything Goes in the Bahamas in two weeks and we would see Kelli when we returned to the states.  Our other boat friends were moving on to the next part of their adventures.  The best we could hope for was to cross paths again sometime in the future.  By 9:45, we had the outboard engine hauled and we weighed anchor for the 110 mile passage to the BVIs.  We were excited about spending a week in one of our favorite spots with our friends, The Armitage’s!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So let me tell you something about Easter in the Caribbean.  This holiday isn’t just a Sunday morning egg hunt and dinner at the grandparent’s house with maybe a little trip to church on Good Friday if you’re really gung ho about the whole thing.  It’s not about religion at all from what we saw (and heard till all hours of the night).  Easter in the Caribbean is like Carnival, Part II.  Makes sense, since Carnival marks the beginning of Lent, right?  Easter here starts on Thursday.  EVERYTHING is closed half of Thursday through Tuesday-ish.  Again, it’s not because people are busy praying.  They are partying like there is no tomorrow.

Not knowing this, we toddle off to St. Kitts’ Customs on Good Friday morning, hoping to check out and leave for Anguilla.  We had a long 66 mile trip ahead of us, so we wanted to leave early.  Nope.  Customs was there, but Immigration was “closed for the holiday” according to the Customs agent.  We would have to take an (expensive) taxi to the airport and clear Immigration there.  Which meant we wouldn’t be able to leave in time to get to Anguilla before dark.  At 0730, Chris went back to the Immigration office on a hunch and they had finally arrived.  Phew.  That was a close one.  By 0810 we were on our way.

It was a hot day. We caught 5 fish and saw a whale on the way.  We had macaroni and cheese for lunch and arrived at 1750 with plenty of daylight left to anchor safely in the very pretty harbor of Road Bay, Anguilla.  A long beach stretched in an arc from one end of the harbor to the other.  A handful of beach bars and restaurants dotted the palmtree-lined sand and a small dock in the center served as a place to land the dinghy.  There were a lot of boats at anchor, but it didn’t seem busy or crowded.

We made zucchini bread for breakfast and ate it while doing schoolwork.  I headed in to check into Customs and later Chris went to the store.  Anguilla is known for its spectacular beaches, but the government charges hefty fees to visit the beach harbors by boat.  Since we were only going to be in town for a few days, we decided to stay in Road Bay and relax at the gorgeous, if not the most popular, beach there.  St. Maarten was our next stop, and we knew that would be a whirlwind week.

It might have been frowned upon in public school, but at Patronus U., the teacher this day took a little nap in the middle of math…  By 1130, the kids were done with school and I was refreshed, so we went to the beach.  Life was not feeling too tough today!  We sat ourselves in front of Roy’s Restaurant and the kids enjoyed lots of attention from passersby who admired their sand creations and Bryson’s signature “Giant Hole”.  We enjoyed the beach so much that we stayed right until dinner and ate at Roy’s.  The waitress, Joanne, from the Bronx, was funny and super helpful.  It started to pour and we realized the storm wasn’t going to end soon, so we ordered dessert!

Eventually we had to leave, so we waited for a lull and dashed down the beach in pitch darkness towards the dinghy dock.  No use.  We were all drenched to the bone long before we even got in the dinghy.  We took a wet, laughing ride back to Patronus as Chris quipped (from his favorite movie), “I don’t think the heavy stuff is gonna come down for some time yet!”

 

 

 

We woke up on Easter morning to the sight of our three little bunnies poking their heads in our cabin.  We enjoyed watching them search for candy and my eyes welled up at how excited they were to get just a few little chocolates and jelly beans.  The simplicity we were seeking this year had been found.  These children were just happy to be together, having fun searching the boat for treats.  The Easter Bunny left a little card for each of them with a few tic tac toe games and a word search.  I hope we have left the excess of our old lives behind for good.  This felt so right.

 

After chocolate chip scones for breakfast, we headed right on back to the beach in front of Roy’s.  We read, swam, and talked to locals while the kids played all day.  At 1700, we decided to head back to the boat to make dinner.  Chris, Bryson, and Reese swam back to the anchored boat and Porter and I took the dinghy.  When we got to the boat, Porter grabbed the painter (the line that ties the dinghy to the dock/boat) and hopped off onto the swim platform.  He has done this about six million times since we moved onto Patronus.  But a wave rocked the dinghy at the last second and he lost his balance.  He fell forward toward the boat and smacked his forehead on the transom.

When he stood up, there was blood EVERYWHERE.  Chris held him and I jumped out of the dinghy.  Chris ran to get towels while I tried to assess the damage.  He had a giant, gaping trough in his forehead and it was bleeding profusely.  It has taken me a long time to work up the courage to write this next part.  I have several friends who have experienced traumatic moments with their  children.  I am sure that more than a few of you will be able to empathize with us.

Time stopped.  On the outside, I was holding a towel on Porter’s head and smiling my best “It’s going to be just fine” smile at him.  I was saying all the right things to calm him down.  He saw the blood and started to panic so I explained to him that heads always bleed a lot and that I was going to take care of him.  On the inside, I was using my peripheral vision and every one of my senses to assess the situation and create a plan.

1. Where are Reese and Bryson?  There they are, still swimming to the boat.  They are almost here.  Tell them to grab shoes and get in the dinghy.  No time to dry off or get dressed.

2. We need to get to a hospital.  Does Anguilla even have a hospital?  It’s Easter and it is after 6pm.  We need to take the dinghy to the dinghy dock and find a local with a car who can drive us to a doctor.

3. What if it is more serious than the medical facilities here can handle?  We need passports, Eastern Caribbean money, insurance card, boat papers.  St. Maarten is the closest island and it’s big.  Really big.  I bet they even have a helicopter.  Tell Chris to get all that and get in the dinghy.

4. Porter needs to be comfortable and warm.  Is he going into shock?  Grab a huge towel to wrap around him.

5. We are all still in salty, sandy bathing suits.  Too bad.  I’m not wasting one extra second.  We need to get him medical attention.  Now.

We all got in the dinghy and drove painfully slowly to the dinghy dock in order to keep the bouncing to a minimum.  We carefully passed Porter up to the dock.  I carried him up the dock while Chris tied up the dinghy.  Bryson and Reese followed behind us, shellshocked.  They weren’t there when he fell and still weren’t exactly sure what had happened.

I asked the first people we saw if they could take us to a hospital.  They were extremely concerned but didn’t have a car.  They were just visiting and didn’t know if there was a hospital on the island.  We walked across the street to the convenience store.  The store owner went upstairs to get her daughter, who was a nurse.  She came down, took one look at Porter and called an ambulance, which arrived just minutes later.

During those minutes, I held Porter on my lap like a baby.  He was so afraid and didn’t want to go to a hospital.  I explained to him that the hospital was where the doctor was and that the doctor would help us make his head better.  His eyes started closing.  I thought he might be losing consciousness.  I asked him if he knew his name and he shook his head.  I asked him if he knew who I was, but he didn’t.  I asked him if he knew where we were.  He started to look worried and shook his head again.  I asked him where he lived.  He said “on a boat.”  Well, that was something.

I smiled at Porter as I spoke to him, but inside I was screaming, “PLEASE DON’T GO!!!  PLEASE DON’T DIE!  PLEASE!  PLEASE. please…”

Chris came to tell us the ambulance had arrived and I looked pleadingly at him.  I barely whispered, “he doesn’t know his name.”  We all got into the back and I laid Porter on the bed.  I leaned over him and held him.  I kept his eyes locked on mine so he would see nothing but love.  The ride to the hospital took just a few minutes.  There were no triage desks, no forms to fill out, no lines.  A doctor met us and quickly told us that he was going to be fine.  He just needed three stitches.

Breathe.

I don’t know how, but in two seconds I went from thinking I was going to lose my child to wondering if this third world doctor was going to do a good enough job with the stitches so as not to leave a scar on Porter’s forehead.  I guess I was so relieved and so ready to leave that horrific fear behind that I was willing to find ANYTHING else to concentrate on.  I also needed to make sure that I kept it together for Porter.  The relief flooded my whole body.  I felt the lump in my heart dissolve and spread through my body as it searched for a way out.  The excess adrenaline was begging for me to cry it out, but I still needed to get Porter through the rest of his ordeal.

He was panicking about getting stitches but I was able to be there fully with him.  I knew that “three stitches” meant my baby was going to be alright.  “Three stitches” is more like a good story.  I moved into my “matter-of-fact” mommy tone of voice, which usually works.  “Ok, Porter.  This is what’s going to happen.  The doctor is going to use a special thread to close up your cut because that will work better than using a Band-Aid.  After a little while, the stitches will come out and your forehead will be all better.”

I agreed with him that it was probably going to hurt and would definitely be a lot scary.  But I assured him that I was going to hold him the whole entire time and that we would give him some Tylenol to help the pain when we got back to the boat (we’ll leave the natural home remedies for non-forehead-gash moments).  I tried not to give “Dr. How Bad a Doctor is this that he got stuck working on Easter Evening?” suspicious looks as he started the first stitch.  Back at home, I had always heard the advice that you should ask for a plastic surgeon whenever stitches are needed on the face.  I laughed inside at the idea of asking the doctor for a plastic surgeon.  Between him, the nurse, and the two ambulance drivers, the entire hospital staff totaled 4.  Beggers can’t be chosers when it comes to island medical care.  (Weeks later, a friend would split open his nose on Rum Cay in the Bahamas when his snorkel mask shattered on his face.  The only available medical help was a nurse who only had one size thread.  And it wasn’t the one you usually use on noses.  He and Porter are scar buddies now.  They both look fine, so there you go.)

 

We paid the nurse $400 in cash for the ambulance and hospital visit and we were on our way.  After what seemed like twelve days since we left the boat, we were back in the ambulance, headed back home.  In fact, the whole fiasco, door to door, only took 2 hours.  Perhaps it was the speedy transportation.  The ambulance drivers really enjoyed their job and turned on all the lights and sirens as they screamed down the road at 60 miles per hour.  On the way back, too.  Chris and I looked at each other in confusion.  The emergency was over.  Did we need to run everyone off the road to get us back to the harbor?  At least Bryson and Reese enjoyed the wild ride.

Bryson and Reese were unbelievable through the whole ordeal.  They sat shivering without complaint in their wet bathing suits in the ambulance and then at the hospital.  They sat quietly and just watched Porter, sending him loving and caring thoughts.  On the way back, they whispered happy thoughts to him and cheered him up.

Back at the boat, we fed everyone and made Porter comfortable on the couch.  I busted out a little “hidden pictures” activity book and we played with that for a bit.  After dinner, we all watched Diary of a Wimpy Kid together.  We were all so grateful that our little guy was okay.  After receiving a few get well calls, Porter slept with me in our cabin so that I could listen to him breathe all night.  My fear had returned when it came time to let him go to sleep.  I will never forget the terror I felt when he started to close his eyes in the store.  May no parent ever feel that pain.

We spent the next morning taking it nice and slow.  Good think, because after all, it was “Easter Monday”, and nothing was happening because everything was closed.  Porter was happy and said he had absolutely no pain at all.  Even he couldn’t believe it.  Bryson and Reese did their schoolwork while Porter “relaxed”.  I’m sure there were more than a few “nanny nanny poo poo” looks from Porter to his siblings, but he had earned himself a pass.

The Easter weekend workboat races were supposed to be the focus of my Anguilla blog post, but they will now take a back seat.  It was amazing to watch the fleet as they took their beach start.  The boats line up along the beach, with their anchors in the sand.  One crew member stays in the water, and when the gun fires, they pull their anchors, turn the boats around, raise their sails, and take off, usually with the guy in the water splashing and screaming and trying to haul himself in.

The yelling and screaming continues as the crew attempts to get control of the gigantic sail and the skipper attempts to negotiate the boat through the packed mooring field.  Patronus was pretty much anchored on the finish line, so we were told to move to a different spot.  The only problem was that they notified us of this five seconds before the gun went off!  I ran to the bow and started to raise the anchor as Chris fired up the engine, but just as we started to motor towards the other end of the harbor, the whole fleet was upon us.  The yelling and screaming continued…

We cautiously went back to the beach and the kids played quietly so as not to get Porter’s head wet.  We had lunch again at Roy’s and had to tell Joanne the Bronx Waitress all about Porter’s escapades the day before.  After our recovery day, we all went to bed early.  I stayed up again to listen to my Porter breathing, almost convinced that he really, really, really was going to be okay.