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Stories Worthy of
Drunken Sailors
A brief (and my) version of the adventure.
None of the wounds required stitches (or
very many anyway), the barnacles weren't even scraped off when we went
aground, we only called for maintenance three times ("SunSail
base this is Cala Dora, over"), the sea urchin stings were not
the bad ones, our one designated driver started drinking again. But
hey, it was a GREAT trip.
Boarding our 46' Catamaran on Friday,
November 8th, 2002, a crew of close friends and I sailed a 'bareboat'
cruise around the British Virgin Islands for a week. For those of
you who aren't familiar with the 'bareboat' term (and those of you with
dirty minds), bareboat describes sailing a vessel yourself, with no
charter captain, cook, or hired crew. We did everything
ourselves. Also, the freedom this type of charter provides,
includes setting your own course - going where you want, when you want.
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Of course 'bareboat' does not exclude those
other thoughts of bare. Some pictures will explain that
later.
The British Virgin Islands (from now on
known as the BVIs) are just south of Puerto Rico about a 45 minute
flight, and within sight of St John and the American Virgin Islands.
We flew into Tortola, the capital and
largest island, a couple days before sailing - to get acclimated to the
weather, pace, and rum. Our charter with Sun Sail, one of
the larger charter companies, was a 46 foot Bahia by Fountaine Pajot.
It had four master cabins and plenty of room to spread out.
After shopping for our own
food on Friday afternoon, we boarded about 5:00 and packed everything
away. The charter company requires the first night be a sleep
aboard in the marina. So, after unpacking, we headed to Fat
Hog Bob's, which is another story.
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