No. no. not that bitter end.
Not the bitter end of our journey. Not the bitter end of our friendship, not the bitter end where we all throw down and punch each other ’till our hands hurt.
Not that bitter end.
I’m talkin’ about the Bitter End that’s the place where most of the boats have to turn around and head south or west ’cause most of the charter companies don’t allow un-captained boats to sail to Anegada. It’s off limits to most.
But not to us.
Captains MoRon had made the trip once before so we had been given the green light- weather permitting. That morning when we left Cooper Island we were told by the folks at Bare Kat Charters to get to where we were going by late morning and hunker down because there was a fast moving front headed our way and we could expect 6-8 foot seas and 30 knot winds from the NE, building as the day progressed.
So what did we do? Did we leave Cooper Island and take a comfortable, downwind sail southwest to the mountainous green islands and gin clear turquoise waters that looked pretty much like the mountainous green islands and gin clear turquoise waters to the north? Nope. No indeedy. We headed NE because we had to get to The Bitter End so that we could be sure to get to Anegada the following day.
Did I mention there was A SCHEDULE? I think I did.
Anyway, we spent the day slowly motoring, slamming into the big seas and steadily strengthening wind. Both Captain Ron and Hennifer had to take suppositories, she because she was getting seasick and he because we convinced him it would cure his cold and stop his whining.
By afternoon as we were closing with the channel into The Bitter End a squall hit us with 40 knot winds, thunder and lightning, and sheets of blinding horizontal rain. Captains MoRon and me stood out in the cockpit getting drenched in the howling wind and rain trying to pick out the day markers. Fortunately, God was a male that day and understood the importance of unrelenting SCHEDULES governing happy little vacations and the squall lightened up just enough to spot the channel before we ran aground on the reef and wrecked the boat and died a watery death wondering why vacations have to be this hard.
We got in, picked up a mooring ball and cracked a beer right before the REAL storms hit. We all decided, or at least some of us did, that if the weather didn’t improve we would bypass Anegada and head southwest to some other mountainous green island with gin clear turquoise water.
I should have noticed that the Queen Princess Cruise Director wasn’t saying anything, that she was just sitting and smoking.
But I didn’t.
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