Just before we left Nanny Cay, to officially commence this cruising season, I found a terrific baker who came to the boat with his wares.  They looked fabulous and tasted better, the like of which we have never seen in the islands before.  And because he was from PEI, I trusted him; bought everything he produced, and promptly served it all to friends on the boat at happy hour.  Sue and Bruce, and their newly arrived  very pregnant daughter Erin, and fellow Edmontonian and boater, Terry Loat, who captains the fearless aFloat.  All went well until Erin debarked, tried to get around her Dad who was attempting to get his shoes on (post drinking)  on the dock - she unceremoniously fell in - YUK!  By the time we got her back on the dock she was badly bruised and had pulled a muscle in her shoulder.  But, as they say in fairy tales, that was just the beginning.  By 4 a.m. Bill was vomitting up a lung, sicker than a dog with food poisoning that could only be ecoli because it lasted almost a week.  He was SO sick.  I wasn't; guts of a sea gull, can chew nails and spit rust.  Also, I hadn't eaten any of the offending piece.  I ventured over to Terry's boat to find he was similarly afflicted; sick, both ends, non stop.  Now I was extremely worried that Erin had also been struck, so I went over to Andiamo 35 and knocked on the side of the boat.  Happily all was well there with all three, except for Erin's shoulder, which she had in a sling.  You can't imagine how relieved I was.  Now I just had to support Bill and Terry through their ordeals.

Within a couple of days, Bill felt sufficiently better that he was ready to leave the dock.  We needed to fill with gas and diesel so stopped at the fuel dock on the way out of the marina, at which point I knew for sure he still wasn't up to snuff.  I  had to back the boat onto the fuel dock, Bill just wasn't up to it.  He had pulled a muscle in his back retching.   Well.  There is NOTHING a woman can't do in a crisis, and nothing like it she will do without one.  I backed onto the dock without incident, or grace. We fueled up, motored in uncertain seas over to Norman Island, with me driving and Bill looking a little green  - claimed it was a combination of the spilled diesel smell, the 'aroma' of pumping out our holding tank when we were out in the open sea, and the lingering malady of a superior case of ecoli.

Fat Hog's bay has nothing to recommend it other than a brand new laundromat & a great eatery!
This is the Koi pond outside the restaurant

Ron, bartender par excellence, espousing the benefits of 'omega trees, mon'!

At Norman Island, things improved daily as we snorkeled the caves and enjoyed the beach bar and restaurant.  Also, the wind had really piped up and we we securely attached to a mooring ball in one of the most ideally located bays in the BVIs.  Not in any hurry to leave.

Friend Jerry and Erin dancing to MJ's music.  Note the sling!

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We had so much fun when MJ, a local celeb was playing wonderful jazz and contemporary music, and we danced, ate and drank the night away.

We cut a mean rug!

MJ was a joy to watch and listen.  But he was really hard to photograph!

After 5 days we were ready to change the scenery and motored over to the Bitter End.  It's a big bay on North Sound and a very upscale resort-y place.  The first night we tied ourselves to a mooring ball in front of Saba Rock and watched the ball submerge itself over 3 feet  in the horrendous winds.  Those same winds, while uncomfortable for us on the boat were ideal for the kite sailors who criss-crossed the bay between the boats, hurtling themselves over 30 feet into the air,  overtop of boats and navigational aids.  It was awesome and really made me wish I was younger - I SO would have tried that!

These guys HONK at up to 30 Nm.  See him in the air?

The  next night we moved to get out of the fierce winds and, at sunset, someone on one of the boats played a haunting TAPS on the horn.  It echoed around the bay, and every ear was tuned and silent.  It was so moving.

We were surprised at the number of super huge mega yachts showing up here until I googled them and found out they were being judged in the annual 'mega yacht regatta' where the worlds largest and most opulent yachts are judged on their merits.  Our money is on the tug-boat looking boat with the helicopter, ferrari and super speed boat on the deck.  Mega yacht number 43 is Nirvana and she's for sale, although finding out the asking price is not easy.  I was going to submit a low-all offer, but my computer doesn't allow me to input that many zeros.   Also,  Richard Branson (Virgin, etc.) owns the next island over, Necker Island, and we will have to avoid hitting it when we leave here.  That's if we're  not distracted by his helicopter buzzing over our heads constantly.  My shameless name dropping is over right here.

Terry Loat and his friend Brant joined us for the last 24 hours and we enjoyed their company on our boat and their hospitality on aFloat.  We were sad to see them off; they left for Grenada this afternoon.

We are currently watching the Stupor Bowl at a bar here and enjoying the real fans gong show.  Loud, drunk, but strangely not offensive or obnoxious, we enjoy the side show of their histrionics.  I also found the opening ceremonies involving the choir from Sandy Hook  and Alicia Keyes national anthem very moving.

Our next port of call, tomorrow morning is Anageda Island where we will celebrate Bill's 69th birthday with lobster and a tour of the flamingos on the Salt flats.