Day 7 - Friday, November 8 - Marina Cay to Peter Island
Today, we need to get closer to Roadtown for our eventual return, so we head for Peter Island. We raise the main while still in the lee of Beef Island, but as soon as we are out in the open and unfurl the jib, it's clear that we're overpowered. We furl in the jib about halfway and then have a rollicking sail down the Sir Francis Drake Channel. The seas are still impressive for the Channel, at 4-6 feet, though they are not much compared to those on the outside. After having radioed ahead to the Peter Island Yacht Harbour, we are on one of the six moorings in the anchorage at Sprat Bay by late morning.
At this point, I'm a little rattled. We had an ugly (but intentional) jibe with me at the helm, and it took several tries to grab the mooring pennant because of the swirling winds and the heavy-duty chafe protection on the loop. As well, the climb up the hill at Peter Island, normally an easily managed one, taxes our sea legs a bit. So, by this relatively pre-lunch hour, I'm more than happy to ease my pain at Deadman's Bar and Grill. The bar wasn't quite open for business, but the lady bartender mixed me a beautiful tall painkiller, on top of which she floated some Captain Morgan's. We sat at a table on the beach and enjoyed the beautiful scenery.
Captain Rick plays swabbie on our last full day at sea.
Deadman's is a picture-perfect beach, though perhaps a little too perfectly groomed for my taste. Situated in a well-protected bay between two green headlands, its is divided about 2/3 of the way across by a rocky point (the smaller portion being called "Little Deadman's"). The sand is light gold, the water blue green turning to dark blue as the bottom changes over from sand to grass. The beach is bordered by the ubiquitous sea grape trees, flowering trees and bushes, as well as stands of palm trees strategically placed. Hammocks are slung between palm trees here and there, and beach chairs and palm-frond palapas round out the scene. At the west end of the beach are some of Peter Island Resort's lodgings.
Appropriately chilled out, we return to Cocoon for a lunch of leftover spaghetti and the meager remains of our junk food (chips and salsa, cashews, and the de riguer Pringle's). After lunch, we hit the beach at Little
Deadman's Bay, which is designated as the beach for "yachtsmen" on Peter Island. I guess when you pay that $35 mooring fee, you are no longer just a "sailor." In my humble opinion, the "yachtsmen" get the better deal here none of the "crowds" of the big beach (which is populated with PIR guests), with all of the beauty. Of course, sailors are not precluded from visiting the big beach; however, they are not welcome to use the hammocks, chairs or other amenities which are reserved for PIR guests. We stay at Little Deadman's for a few hours, lolling away our last full day in the BVI.
Peter Island's Deadman's Bay is one of the prettiest beaches in the BVI. The left is a view from Peter Island Resort, and the right is Little Deadman's Bay, where sailors, er, yachtsmen, land.
After our beach time, we slowly begin to gather ourselves and our belongings together for our eventual return to reality. Not even having used up the first of our two 40 gallon water tanks, we take what we consider to be luxurious and long showers (and STILL don't manage to empty that tank!). We enjoy homemade rum punches and prepare our traditional last-night steak dinner, using my traditional charter-boat marinade of Caesar dressing for what tend to be somewhat sub-par steaks. As I'm sautéing the potatos, I run out of olive oil because we've been using it to lubricate the squeaky head pump, but I'm inspired to use the all-purpose Caesar dressing to finish cooking the spuds as well. A nice bottle of red zinfandel allows us to toast a successful and satisfying week.
