Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Virgin Gorda

We spent a couple nights on Tortola, lounging about, recovering from Jenny's visit.  The big project was repairing the broken fore stay.  We'd left if for after Jenny's departure so that we didn't have to waste a day of her already too short visit to the tropics.  The forestay had been attached to the end of a metal bar welded to the mast cap.  It wasn't the weld that broke.  The metal bar itself had actually snapped in half.  

With the use of some spare shackles and some existing hardware already mounted to the top of the mast we were able to jury rig it in a way that leaves me feeling quite confident.  It took several trips up and down the mast.  The climbing harness we were using wasn't designed for extended sitting.  We were only able to stay aloft until our feet turned purple and numb.  Then, we had to lower ourselves down and rub the circulation back into our toes.  After my third trip up the mast, my shoulder muscles were trembling and I was soaked in sweat.  I think my river guiding muscles from the summer are long gone.
 
 
(Aloft with a tool bucket)

 
Once Strolla was back in top form, we set our sights on the island of Virgin Gorda to the east. The island is covered in round, smooth boulders the size of houses, piled along the shoreline, creating caves over the white sands and turquoise waters.  What brought us were the baths, a string of secluded beaches and coves connected by trails through the boulders.  Pictures of them graced the covers of every travel brochure and booklet we'd seen.  What kept us was what lay just beyond the well worn trails and beach bars, an endless trove of climbing routes to be discovered and ascended, all to ourselves.  I took a lot of pictures.
 
(Mark scouts a route)

(Peter works a crack)






(Mark maneuvers up)


(Mark and Peter simul-climb a multi-pitch route)


(Mark kicks out a leg for balance)


(Pete and Nate on the rocks)


(Nate works a crack)

(One of the "baths" on Virgin Gorda)


(Peter on climb)

(Looking for the pot of gold)

(Nate makes a bold, bare-footed leap while Mark waits his turn)

1 comment:

  1. The weld on the mast crane let go on me in 1998 between bermuda and west palm... was very glad of the emergency forestay too. rybovich spencer also known as rob-the-rich-spencer charged me hundreds of dollars to reweld it. Glad to hear it wasn't the weld that let go this time!

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