Virgin Gorda to St.Maarten

We cast off at 6:45pm leaving Bitter End 45 degrees north of Necker Island, and headed out during a perfect Caribbean sunset. As so often is the case heading in this direction, the sail across to St.Maarten was quite rough, with a headwind for the entire leg. Daisy literally slammed up and down through the waves, all the time rolling from side to side. Having spent the last five weeks back on dry land I had yet to get my sea legs back and was suffering with a major bout of seasickness. To add to the drama poor little Nicho-San was barfing for all he was worth below decks.
We were unable to raise the sails, which would have steadied the boat, because of the headwind, and so we were forced to continue under motor. I spent the majority of the trip hanging limply over the side of the boat like a rag doll, wondering, but not caring, whether a monster from the deep was about to raise its ugly head from the inky depths below and snap off my head like a pretzel. I was also seriously regretting the lasagna and several cocktails I had consumed before we left.
With a calm sea and favorable wind, under a velvety black sky littered with trillions of sparkling jewels night crossings are wonderful, unique experiences that are both peaceful and exhilarating at the same time. They also provide the best opportunity to fully appreciate the extraordinary and incredible beauty of the stars without the distracting reflection of light coming from land. Unfortunately at this particular juncture I’m about as interested in the stars as Nicho! I take a deep breath filling my lungs with the crisp, clean, salty, fresh air, and usher up a prayer to God, to please let this leg of the trip be over quickly.
Normally, I love the sound of the ocean as the boat slices gracefully through the waves. I’m always transfixed by the amazing spectacle of the rising sun as it creeps gradually over the horizon at dawn, casting a blanket of pure gold and sparkling diamond dust across the ocean. I get so excited to see the first glimpse of land as it appears through a misty haze in the distance. These are just some of the things that despite my nervousness thrill me, filling me with a desire to travel further. Visiting places inaccessible to most folk is what sets sailing apart from any other form of travel. There are few limits as to where you can go, and distance is no problem. With wind as your power, sail is an environmentally friendly form of travel. How can you improve on that?
Sadly for us this was not such a crossing, and I would have paid any amount to be air lifted off Daisy and returned to terra ferma. But, alas, with sailing, as with all things adventurous, one has to take the good with the bad. I look across at Bob at the helm, and mutter to myself “the next leg of the trip better bloody well be good!”