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Omelets graced our paper plates this morning thanks to Kathy and Debbie. As we ate we got a lot of pleasure out of watching the OCD lady on the Moorings boat swabbing the deck – three times!

Snorkeling along the southern shore was made memorable by a very large school (in the hundreds of thousands) of mullet fry being herded by a group of six 3-4 foot long Tarpon. By drifting slowly into the massive school you could immerse yourself in a shimmering pool that moved and shifted in unison with your every movement. The swirling was quite disorienting, but the effect was mesmerizing and could only be described as a National Geographic moment.  Occasionally the river of silver sparkles would suddenly part in front of you, ushering in the stately Tarpon with their huge underbite, circling to see what was disturbing their ‘herd’. David towed Becky over and back to be sure she didn’t miss one of the highlights of our trip thus far!

Katey had another mishap here, losing her mask just behind the boat. It was clear enough that we could see the bottom 30 feet below but no one had the ability to get down that far, so she made another donation to the water nymphs. Maybe we’ll find it next trip?

 Randy, Debbie, Kathy, Kevin and Katey all took the Kayak over to visit one of our favorite ‘ruins’ from the 2002 trip. The trail to the Peter Island Manor house was overgrown even more this time and the house itself had almost fallen in completely. I suspect that the next trip may find the entire structure completely gutted by termites and wood rot. Even the concrete was beginning to crumble. Beautiful hand made tiles still graced several spots on the walls and reminded us again of what was once a glorious estate. Worthy as a setting for a novel, perhaps I should let my imagination wander a bit and create some residents to walk its rooms again.

The Indians and The Caves at Norman 

We left for the Indians and another amazing snorkel adventure. There were divers below us on several occsaions, and the large wall of rock dropping off to the floor 40-50 feet below was breath taking. It was hard to believe that we had found a spot to challenge the beauty of what we saw at the Dogs but this was it. Kevin voted to spend the rest of the trip right here, but I explained the moorings were only for day time use.

We motored over to Norman and the Caves to look for one of Katey’s Geocaches and located it on a ledge in the back of the less visited third cave.This cache was damaged by Hurricane Omar just a week after we left as it struck the BVI a glancing blow. The current was fairly strong across here and Katey had chosen to wear water shoes instead of flippers to go searching, so Kevin and I gave her a slow tow back to the boat.

Soper’s Hole 

After a brief swing into the Bight to get a picture of our fine ladies in front of the Willy T (couldn’t get their t-shirts off, unfortunately), we set sail for Soper’s Hole for some water and shopping. Met a quaint English gentleman when we docked. He filled us up with good water and amused us with his laid back demeanor. Turns out he has been the ‘dock master’ there for a couple of years and lives on a borrowed 30’ monohull just across from us. He had laid out every line along the dock and was washing the salt from them one by one – to extend their life, I assume. He was very meticulous about his job, too, writing up a detailed hand written receipt for our $14 purchase of water. 

While we filled with water and bought some ice, shopping had drawn the ladies into several stores. We rounded them up and shoved off, when David suddenly realized his me amor was me a missing. Becky had been behind the rest, so we did a quick 360 and got in some more docking practice.

Sandy Spit and Sandy Cay 

Rounding the end of Tortola we caught a nice beam reach to Sandy Spit with our first dark clouds of the trip hanging just to our West. Fortunately the weather stayed to port and we enjoyed a few glorious minutes posing for pictures and making footprints in the near virgin sand. At one spot we did spot a drawing made before our arrival – I Love You . . . with the name washed clean by the last night’s waves. The Spit was the ultimate sandy paradise, just one palm and a few scrub bushes, but it’s north side was a monument to former visitors, lined with stone cairns from end to end. We built our own before leaving and vowed to return to add to it soon! 

Fearful of the stiff winds beginning to blow from the ENE, we decided to slide back down to the Spit’s big sister, Sandy Cay, for the night’s anchorage. Some party-ers in a power boat were the only others around and they left us before sundown to enjoy our version of Gilligan’s Isle. The wind was strong even in the lee of the island, but the skeeters still made an appearance for their bloody tea. It was nice to have the breeze coming in the hatches all night, cool enough to use the sheets for more than privacy.