Goodbye Jenny

The next stop after leaving St. Johns were the Indians, a ring of jagged boulders rising out of the ocean and recommended as one of the best snorkeling and diving sights in the Caribbean.  We enjoyed the snorkeling, and climbing up the rocks, but spent most of our time posing for photos all wearing our "Bill" shirts.  Bill was our river boss while rafting this past Summer in Wyoming.  I had had some commemorative t-shirts printed up and we wanted a few good photos to send him of us in our "Bill Wear".

 

 

("Bill Wear" photo shoot)

("Bill Wear" photo shoot)

("Bill Wear" photo shoot)

(Bill Wear)

(Nate atop one of the Indians)

(Tan line check)

(Tan line judge)

(Becca disagrees with the Judge's ruling)

(Mark discusses strategy with his tanning coach after a hard loss)

We spent an afternoon playing in the waters of the Indians and then continued on to Norman's Island in the British Virgin Islands, another recommendation from the friendly information kiosk man in Cruz Bay.  

 

The island is almost entirely wildlife refuge with a huge protected harbor on the west end filled with mooring buoys.  Permanently at anchor here is an old, steel ship converted to a floating restaurant.  There is no bridge and no nearby town.  The restaurant survives entirely on the business of the transient boaters moored in the harbor.  The place is called "Willie T's" and when the sun goes down, there's no where else to go.  So, every night is a party.  We'd been hearing a lot of hype and I was pleased to see it wasn't just hot air.  

 

(Willie T's dance floor at midday)

 

 

I think we made our presence felt on the dance floor.  Mark cut his foot open climbing up the outside of the boat from mid-deck to roof deck and we decided to go to bed. 

 

(Bandaging Mark's bar injury)

(Dinghy docking while underway)

(Bringing the dinghy fuel aboard)

(Success)

From Willie T's we sailed north to Tortola.  Jenny had a plane to catch back to a job in West Virginia.  Her last night aboard we anchored in a quiet cove for a home cooked dinner and an evening of card playing and reliving our recent adventures.  It had been an eventful week .  The next morning we sailed to the airport and I took her to shore in the dinghy.  

 

Perhaps to Jenny's surprise, we didn't take her to a town from which she could catch a taxi.  We didn't even take her to a dock.  We simply sailed along the shore until we physically saw the airport and then dropped her off.  There was no good landing spot but she managed to time her scramble up the rocks with the waves and didn't get wet.  I threw her backpack up to her.  She waved once and then set off, following the chain link fence that bordered the runway.  I watched until she reached the dirt perimeter road that would take her towards the terminal building in the distance.  Strolla's crew was back to four.

(Jenny aboard Strolla)