(I wrote this in late winter 2000)<br><br>Well, we've been back for a bit over a week. The laundry is done and folded and put away. The marketing is done and the cupboards are full again. We're back to our old habits that were left behind sometime in November. January is settling in
.<br><br><br>I should start by, first, saying that I started planning this trip two years ago when I realized that the year 2000 was approaching. Our best friends, Steve and Pat, live in Boca Raton, Florida and we had long talked about spending this New Year's together. While they lived up here, they bought a beautiful bottle of port to enjoy after the champagne was gone on New Year's Eve. Every year Pat would remind me that the bottle sat in the rack, aging. Frankly, I never thought 2000 would get here! <br><br>We really had no idea where we would spend the holiday but as time passed, occasionally someone would mention 2000 and finally I decided I had better do something about it.<br><br>I first called The Moorings, the sailboat charter company we had used four times in the past to bareboat. <br><br><br>Before you ask about naked sailing, it isn't. You rent a sailboat, provision it and sail it yourself. The four of us started bareboating the year after Steve's and my first wedding anniversary. He and I had spent an idyllic week in the British Virgin Islands at a private island resort. Each afternoon we watched as sailboats would come into our bay and moor and the crews would come ashore for dinner or have their raucous parties afloat. At that point I KNEW I would find some way to do the same. But when we returned from our trip I told Pat about wanting to bareboat and she exclaimed, "But Helen! You'll burn!" I explained to her that one DID wear clothes (though, since then, we have seen some boaters really BAREboat).<br><br>In 1990, 6 of us got together and chartered a boat in the BVI through The Moorings, the most professional charter company in the Caribbean. We had a 43' sloop and, for a week, had all the fun that Steve and I had observed the year before. Everyday it was sailing, with a new anchorage every night. It was a BALL! The following year the four of us did two weeks in the BVI in a smaller 38' boat and then, later, did two sailing trips in the Abacos, Bahamas in a brand new, magnificent 40' named Sabbatical. We loved the freedom and the exhilaration of the air in the sails.<br><br><br>ANYWAY! Two years ago I called The Moorings to arrange for another charter. This would be the fifth charter that I had planned and I would be given a Commodore's burgee along with a 10% discount on all future charters. I was soooo pleased I was planning ahead!<br><br>SURPRIZE! They were completely booked. The Moorings in the BVI has several hundred boats. I was dumb founded -- how could so many people have had the same idea as we? Oh well, nice dream but that's all it would be. Pat and I started to check out other options. But we were very disappointed.<br><br>Later, in 1998, I was bemoaning our situation with an online friend and found that she had just become the North American representative of BareCat Charters, handling strictly catamarans. Well, we had never considered cats. They certainly have more space but the guys wouldn't have the joy of pushing the heeling of the boat and make me crazy (honestly, I have never figured out how these single hulls don't tip over! But Benateaus don't. At one point in a severe heel, they just lose momentum.) <br><br>Ginny Noyes, my friend, and I decided this was a deal and she held the boat for us. The four of us agreed on the dates and then had to wait to make our flight plans with American in late January when they would accept reservations. <br><br>First thing that Sunday morning, 333 days prior to our sail, I called American and requested our flights. By God, they were only making a list of names and promised to let us know if we would have flights by October. HUH??? I was furious! Here we had promised more thousands of dollars than we could believe for the boat and then didn't even know if we would actually be able to GET to the boat! Pat's husband, Steve and I spent several long evenings playing our options on the phone and finally resorted to using Ginny's travel company. They got my Steve and me as far as St. Thomas and Pat and Steve, all the way through to Tortola. We were paying a pretty penny but we were GOING! <br><br><br>In April/May when Steve and I were down in the BVI for our annual two-week visit to the perfect beach cottage on the perfect sandy beach on Cooper Island, we stopped by BareCat Charters to check out our boat. Mike, the manager, was happy to allow us on board so I could take photos of the interior. Krazy Kat, our boat, was virtually new. This would be FUN! And I could visualize a week of party on her. <br><br>We returned to Cooper that afternoon and decided to have dinner at the beach club up the island. I sat at the outside bar and waited to order my rum punch. A tanned fellow to my left was reading off an extensive list and then told the bartender to bill his boat -- WildCat. I turned to him and asked him if that was Ginny Noyes' Wildcat. He said, "well, yes" and he was Bill Noyes; he told me that Ginny was right behind me. I turned around and, I swear, it was just like the movies. All I could see was a petite, tanned, blond woman in an animated conversation. All around her was misty. She heard her name and approached me. I held out my hand and introduced myself. <br><br>We shrieked! The restaurant stopped. Everyone looked at us as we hugged and laughed and jumped. Ginny and I had been online friends for years and had never met. This was a complete surprise! Steve and I joined their group for dinner and we never stopped talking. I think that she was as happy as we were to have Krazy Kat for the Millennium Sail, as it became to be called. <br><br> <br>Pat and I planned all the food on the telephone a week prior to the trip. Christmas seemed to get in the way. On previous sailing trips she and I had spent Saturdays weighing potatoes and imagining sauces. They would bring all our meat and I had various other goodies we couldn't live without.<br><br> <br><br>Two days after Christmas Steve and I awoke at 3:45am for our 6:45 flight from LaGuardia to Miami. I had succeeded in upgrading us to 1st Class with Steve's electronic upgrades (finally I was benefiting from all his trips away from me this year!) We carried all our bags on the plane and curled, cozily, into our leather seats. And at 6:30 I ordered a Bloody Mary. THIS was traveling in style class! I could get used to it.<br><br>We easily changed plans in Miami to our flight to St Thomas. I had made reservations to Tortola on a 4:30 ferry from the ship dock in St. Thomas. The crossing would take 45 minutes and then we would arrive in Roadtown shortly thereafter. Or so we thought.........<br><br>When we left the Charlotte Amalie harbor there were 4 cruise ships in port. We thanked God we weren't going to be THERE! We were headed for paradise! And it was less than an hour away. Steve and Pat would have arrived earlier that afternoon and, having done the marketing and stowed the food, would have the rum chilled for punches and not doubt would be sitting back in the cockpit, relaxing. Steve and I sat back and adjusted to island time. Sigh..............<br><br>When we docked in West End, the closest port of entry, we all debarked and to go through immigration and customs. But they didn't unload our bags. After nearly an hour, a handful of us reboarded and left for Road Harbor, just up Drake's Channel, about 30 minutes away. It was 6:00 and we had been up for 15 hours; enroute for 12. <br><br>By the time we arrived at the dock, we were exhausted. I called for Steve and Pat to relieve us of our burdens and Steve appeared in shorts and a T-shirt. We went aboard. We all hugged and kissed and, before I could change my clothes, Pat and Steve explained to us that by the time they had arrived at 2:30 the market was about to close. It was the holiday for Boxing Day! They did a quick run-through the store and picked up anything we would need for that night and the next morning. First thing Tuesday we would do the rest of the food. The four of us knew we wouldn't get out of the bay until noon. <br><br>We had dinner at a nearby eatery filled with dancing children and later collapsed about 10pm after we consumed the first bottle of champagne for the week.<br><br><br>The boat was wonderful. For four people used to the close quarters of a single hulled boat, this was like a limousine! The cockpit was huge! Enough space to dance. The main saloon was right inside the door with incredible storage for all our water and cans of sodas and beer under the cushions. To the port and starboard were the staterooms, forward and the heads, aft. The chart table and MORE storage were by our stateroom and the galley was on Steve and Pat's side. The staterooms had full sized bunks and two hatches above to cool us. The overall headroom was well over 6' so no one would have to stoop while being below. And we had a REAL fridge -- not the icebox usually found on other boats. We would stow ice in the chest in the cockpit. But everything else would be kept COLD! in the fridge. We were sailing in STYLE!<br><br><br>The next morning (Tuesday) while my Steve slept, Steve and Pat and I went marketing. The little store held everything and more than we needed including precious treats from Britain. We had our menu and list in hand and made very short work of it. $300 later, we were finding cubbyholes on the boat for all the food.<br><br>Mike, the Base Manager showed up for the Boat Show and Chart Briefing (the time that the Base Manager and the Crew meet and discuss sailing plans and have the workings of the boats explained). Mike's wife, Sydney, arrived during this, with 2 large bags of ice. We had already bought 2 bags so Pat and I spent several hurried minutes finding space for them and loading beers and diet sodas into the chest. It wasn't as hot as we had experienced previously but the sun would be drawing moisture out of our bodies and we would need to replenish it as fast as we could.<br><br>By 1pm we were escorted out of the anchorage and we headed east and around Beef Island to, hopefully, a mooring at Marina Cay. Mike had specified several places where we were forbidden to anchor. Especially this week all the anchorages would be PACKED with boats -- a pulled anchor and drifting boat would cause a lot of damage to others. When we arrived at Marina Cay there was "no room at the inn". So, we motored across to Trellis Bay and found a large number of available mooring balls. Once tied up, we had formalities to deal with.<br><br><br>Each time we sail we always have a new burgee. Even when we don't sail, we collect them. These little flags personalize the boat and also make it easier to find the boat in a packed harbor. The classic burgee that I designed years ago has a large blue cross in the center and with each of our initials in red in each quadrant. This year I had designed a play on our classic --each of our initials in the same position surrounding a large blue Y2K. (Had we sailed with The Moorings, the Commodore burgee would have been towards the top I suspect.) I had also gone ahead and had T-shirts designed and made with the logo on the back. The four of us would be well outfitted. <br><br> <br>Once the rum punches were poured (Pat's Steve had created and made Y2K swizzle sticks for our sail based on our design), we raised the flags: on top the Y2K, followed by the Classic and then America True (the 1999/2000 America's Cup boat captained by Dawn Riley), the Cousteau flag, the America 3 (the woman's boat in the previous America's Cup trials), the Conch Republic flag (from Key West), and then the rec.boats burgee. We had developed quite a collection. Each meant something special to us. They all were US!<br><br>Dinner was grilled chicken and couscous and salad. Pat had made foccacio that afternoon and we would enjoy a fresh loaf of bread, thanks to her, every day of our sail. YUM! As we always say, "We suffer sooooo unjustly!"<br><br><br>Wednesday we headed over to Cooper Island VERY early. It was the first of several early mornings. We knew we had to get into Manchioneel Bay before noon to get a mooring ball. Anchoring there was out of the question. There was just too much eelgrass there to guarantee a good holding for the anchor. The many times that Steve and I have stayed there we have seen more boats that we could count lose their holding. And while it leads to humorous stories, if it happened to you, it certainly is scary. <br><br>Krazy Kat layed peacefully on her mooring ball while we went ashore to have lunch. I was looking forward to seeing old friends.<br><br><br>In the few months since Steve and I were last there, Cooper Island Beach Club had had a serious fire. But it was not obvious. The Beach Club just looked newer. Kurt remembered my name and asked about my friend, Crisy, who had stayed there in September. Simon only remembered me when I backtalked him. I can have a sharp tongue and we always had had a good repartee. He laughed when he recalled that we had said, " We will return."<br><br> <br>Lunch was yummy. Steve and Pat had soft-shelled crab sandwiches, my Steve had his standard Chicken Roti and I, my Manchioneel Sandwich -- a BLT with cheese. We forgot to buy their famous brownies for dinner later. Oh well, Steve and I will just have to do doubles when we return this April for two more weeks on Cooper.<br><br>When we returned to our boat, I grabbed an iced tea and headed for the forward netted bow with my collection of "Colette" that Steve had given me for Christmas, Steve disappeared below to doze and read and Steve and Pat remained in the cockpit. Later, with my Steve asleep in the saloon, Steve and Pat and I went for a dip in the cool (not cold) water.<br><br>Happy Hour hit. One never knows when the sun goes over the yardarm and I wasn't watching but nothing stopped us. Dinner was Chicken a la Queen Pat. It was extra chicken from the night before in a light cream sauce on her toasted foccacio along with a salad. This was so reminiscent from our weekends together in New York. Another one of her wonderful creations! <br><br>Pat and I stayed up late talking in the cockpit and then we finally retired about 10. Another long day was to greet us soon.<br><br><br><br>The next morning, after returning to our base at Fat Hog's Bay to replenish the water, fuel and ice, Krazy Kat and her merry crew headed of to Peter Island and Norman Island to choose our anchorage for New Year's Eve. We knew that all the popular spots would be packed with hundreds of boats -- Mike had told us that the entire charter fleet in the BVI would be on the water. We just wanted to be alone. After all, that's why the four of us decided not to celebrate in New York City. <br><br>Our first choice was a small bay on the northeast side of Norman Island called Benure's Bay. Mike had raved about the snorkeling there and said that it probably wouldn't be crowded if we got there early enough. When we arrived there were already three boats anchored. The bay is small and intimate. The water was crystal clear and shallow near the shore but deepened almost instantly. Steve chose a spot and Pat and my Steve went forward to drop the hook. After several attempts Steve decided he just wasn't comfortable with the location and we all agreed we should motor across to Key Bay on the southeast side of Peter.<br><br>What a pretty place! On the opposite side of the island from us was Peter Island Resort. A very posh, expensive all-inclusive respite. Guests don't number more than 40 at any one time. But on our side I could well imagine what the entire chain of these islands were like hundreds of years ago when pirates hid out and planned their attacks on unsuspecting trading vessels. There are many coves and hidden bays to shelter ships. Suddenly, "Treasure Island" came to mind and I wished I had read it. There was a shallow cut between Peter and Key Cay. Beyond we could see White Bay and the mountain above and on the VERY top was a beautiful home. The entire time we were there, we wondered who was lucky enough to be calling it home for the holiday. It must have had the most incredible view.<br><br>Anchoring there was a piece of cake. After dropping a second anchor, we sat back and relaxed. Unfortunately, I occasionally experience motion sickness. The bay had a moderate current that cut through it and we rocked just enough for me to turn green. I went below into our cabin and opened the hatches and stayed there, reading, for the rest of the day and evening. Everyone enjoyed pasta salad (and MORE fresh bread!) that night while I sipped iced tea and had crackers. It never occurred to me that perhaps I had had one too many rum punches the night before..........I took some Dramamine.<br><br><br>The next day was New Year's Eve. I was feeling better but the weather started to go downhill. There was now one other boat in the bay. They were sitting to our port, several hundred feet away. A quiet couple. The four of us stayed aboard. Between rain showers we traded dry seats in the cockpit. My Steve stayed below reading. I was hoping we hadn't forgotten how to party. This didn't bode well.<br><br>About 4pm Pat and Steve and I decided to "shower". This is probably my favorite part of sailing. We only had 85 gallons of fresh water aboard and knew what it was like to run out of water. The Moorings had failed to check our tanks (yes! I do realize it was ultimately OUR responsibility) prior to one trip in the Bahamas and one evening, when we couldn't have been further from fresh water, we ran out. That's when we learned about sea soap and salt-water baths. <br><br>Unfortunately, we weren't the only ones in this anchorage so we had to bathe in our suits. But we were going to have clean hair for the New Year! My Steve, of course, slept through all of this.<br><br>At 6:00 we turned on the news to see how the Y2K bug was progressing around the world. Amazingly enough the news was good. Calm. No chaos. I pulled out my bag of noisemakers and toys. I had a cowbell that I hung from the boom with some metallic gold boa. We all took turns taking pictures of each other with the disposable Polaroids I had brought. Dressed in our clean Y2K T-shirts with clean hair (!) we started dinner. I think it was that day that Pat made a loaf of bread with "Y2K" carved into the crust. The steaks went on the grill and the potatoes were in the oven. We set up dinner inside that night because rain continued to threaten us. But the champagne flowed.<br><br>After dinner the rains stopped so the festivities could continue in the cockpit. More pictures and then Pat presented her surprise to me! A Black Bun! The traditional dessert served on Hogmanay in Scotland. What a beauty! And HEAVY! They had prepared this at home in Boca Raton and had carried it all the way to the BVI in a springform pan within an old Omaha Steaks box. <br><br>The crust was a golden pastry and inside was very much like minced pie but much denser. Each of us had small slices and our taste buds danced. She explained the process of shopping and making this masterpiece. We were very impressed. And sated. <br><br>We were all getting sleepy! God, we couldn't sleep through New Year's! So we started playing twenty questions. It got pretty silly but it kept us awake.<br><br>Midnight approached. Steve pulled out his GPS for the countdown. When midnight came we yelled, rang bells, rattled our noise makers and when we were done, the bay was silent except for the distant sounds of fireworks and halos of light over Peter Island from the skyrockets on Tortola and in the distance from St. Thomas. It was very strange. We knew that in the next hour 2000 would reach the East Coast with much fanfare. We had more champagne and then continued on to the port.<br><br><br>I don't need to tell you that New Year's Day was VERY quiet. We all slept until late into the morning. I felt like hell. It wasn't the boat anymore. It WAS the rum punches! The day was pretty still.<br><br>About lunchtime Ginny's WildCat, which was being chartered, showed up. We hadn't seen her since the morning we left Fat Hog's Bay. Her skipper had sat in on our chart briefing back at the base. His name was, of course, Steve. We knew this qualified him as a good guy. WildCat was anchored behind us by several hundred feet. <br><br>About 2:00 I saw a frantic person waving from the rocky shoreline. With each swelling wave their dinghy was being beaten on the rocks and swamped. I got Steve's attention and he and Pat agreed that she was in distress. WildCat Steve and his kids were cruising the bay and we pointed out the panicked person and a rescue was organized. Both of our Steves jumped into our dinghy to give any necessary support. They located the owner of the sailboat whose dinghy and crew were in distress and he jumped into WildCat's dinghy (was his name Steve, too? We never knew). Later, everyone returned and deposited the rescued crew on their boat along with a swamp dinghy and all the Steve's went/came home. <br><br>We were experiencing our own crisis. We were running out of ice! <br><br>Dinner was a southern tradition for New Year's Day promoting luck in the New Year. Pat had marinated two beautiful pork tenderloins and we had purchased Black Eyed Peas and Callaloo (we couldn't find Collard Greens). After another feast we just collapsed. We would sail over to Norman Island the next morning. Our trip was rapidly coming to an end. We had to pack in the partying.<br><br><br>Sunday morning right after WildCat pulled up her anchor, we waved and followed them out but headed for the Bight on Norman Island. Norman Island is the home of the "Treasure Island" caves from Robert Louis Stevenson classic children's tale. It is a very popular sight in the BVI and is always crowded. In the Bight are two favorite watering holes. One is the William Thornton known affectionately as the "Willie T", a replica of a 93' top sail schooner that has been converted into a bar and restaurant, and the other a newer restaurant named "Billy Bones". Both sites were rocking early in the day. There were over a hundred boats in the bay. We watched humorously as boats would race each other to disappearing mooring balls. At one point there were two boats circling one ball like sharks. <br><br>The four of us lunched on leftovers -- steak and pork sandwiches. Shortly after that Steve and Pat left in the dinghy to explore the caves. Steve and I stayed aboard to read and watch the busy water. I was amused by the crazies at Willie T's jumping or being pushed (were they walking the plank?) off the top of the boat. Music blared. Many very full dinghies headed to and from there. <br><br>Where was our Deliverance?? <br><br>
