A Different Sense of Personal Space
Wanting to have some more time away from civilization, Saturday’s destination would be Nonsuch Bay on Antigua’s east coast. On the land side, this area of the island is developing and congested; arriving by sea is another world. After a quick stop in Falmouth Harbour, where we left the boat running at the Royal Antigua Yacht Club dock while some of the crew picked up essential provisions (wine, Ting), we made several long tacks, in heavy seas, towards Nonsuch Bay. We passed along the way a dozen or more gorgeous beaches, each one prettier than the last, and I just couldn’t wait to be done with the pounding and get somewhere protected. Just soon enough, we were winding our way through the shoals and reefs of Nonsuch.
While buzzed by some jetskis which belonged to a megayacht anchored within the lee of the protecting reef and Green Island, we correctly predicted that they would leave by midafternoon. And so, virtually alone in the anchorage, the dinghy dropped me off on Green Island while the others went to snorkel the reef. Green Island is a small, craggy, hilly island encircled by tiny white beaches. I happily while away an hour before the others joined me, but we soon got chilled as the wind piped up.
Nonsuch Bay can be very secluded, especially in the afternoon after the daytrippers have left. Green Island, with Little Bird Island in the distance, has small beaches to explore. Little did we know that we wouldn't be alone for long...
As we were returning to the boat, we saw an ominous sight … first one mast, then another, then even more. Horrors! It was a Sunsail flotilla of 12(!!) boats bearing German sailors, all of whom had the evident goal to anchor as close to us as possible. One catamaran anchored maybe 20 feet off our bow, and then let out enough chain to be well behind us. Another one chose the same spot as the first dropped anchor, and started backing down straight on us until our yelling induced them to choose another spot (but only a marginal improvement, as they were 30 feet abeam of us). We were no longer alone. But the ultimate indignity was the fact that the majority of them chose to give us the Full Monty as they took completely nekkid stern showers in broad daylight. Now, I like to think of myself as having fairly liberated views on such things, but in a country such as Antigua with a British heritage – where nudity is frowned upon – a little respect for the sensibilities of the host nation would have been called for where there is an audience that includes someone other than your own private group. (Taking our own retaliatory nekkid showers downstream of a dozen boats with questionable (if any) holding tank practices was out of the question.)
In any event, though we pondered moving, sand gravity got the best of us and we settled in for Rum Tings (rum and Ting cocktails) and a dinner of chicken in ginger wine sauce. Though we were keeping fairly early hours, the Sunsail flotilla only got revved up after dinner, buzzing back and forth in dinghies across the anchorage and gathering on the beach. They were still at it, with a big happy singalong in someone’s cockpit, at midnight when I rose to take a look at the wind meter and to make sure no one had dragged. The wind was honking at a steady 20 knots, with bigger gusts, all night, and I was getting a little worried about the seas outside the reef.
Surrounded by History
In order to set ourselves up for Monday’s return to the charter base, we made for English Harbour Sunday morning. As I’d expected, the seas were rough and heavy – 4-6 foot whitecaps with the occasional 8 footer. Though we were reaching, the seas were on our aft port quarter, so the motion was confused and had a few of us wishing for the heavier monohulls we own. When we tried to reef the main, the cars popped out of the mast track, so we were left under jib alone (but still made 7-8 knots). Making quick progress, we were med-mooring on the Nelson’s Dockyard bulkhead by 11.
Let me tell you, being docked at Nelson’s Dockyard, right in front of the Copper and Lumber Company, near the ramparts to Fort Berkeley, was way cool. It’s a scene I’ve observed as a land-based visitor, and in just about every photo collection I’ve seen of Antigua: the beautiful, antique stone buildings with blue shutters, the nearly landlocked harbour, and the green hills. And it’s a relative bargain as well, with base dockage costing only $.60/foot, when I’m used to as much as $4.00 in the Chesapeake, even when my boat is half as wide.
Nelson's Dockyard provides a beautiful and historic backdrop for our last full day in Antigua.
We started walking in search of lunch, and stopped when we reached The Last Lemming in Falmouth Harbour. They were only serving brunch, so that reduced us to each ordering the only non-brunchy items on the menu: burgers. And they were GREAT – not the $24 jobs like at Carlisle Bay, but certainly burgers worthy of paradise. It was a great waterfront location to while away part of the afternoon, with a convivial crowd of families, yachties and island denizens popping in and out. Sundays are truly days of rest in Antigua, and had we known in advance what our evening would entail, we would know that rest was a good thing.
After a bit of shopping and hanging out, as well as hike up to Fort Berkeley for those who hadn’t already done it, we had standing-up all-the-water-you-want $2 showers at the marina. We had only cold water, but it felt so good to get a good rinsing before putting on our Sunday best (relative, of course) for dinner at the Admiral’s Inn in the Dockyard. The setting is one of the most familiar scenes in Antigua: the striking colonnade next to the sail loft, amid palm trees and overlooking the Harbour. In this setting, redolent of history, everyone but me had one more go at Barbudan lobster, while I had red snapper.
Following our leisurely dinner, we decided a pub crawl was in order. With the music from Shirley Heights ringing through the air, we weren’t ready to call it a night. We stepped into HQ, a restaurant on the waterfront with a porch
overlooking our moored boat. There didn’t seem to be much action, but the French owner Tony, and the French bartender, were welcoming and willing hosts, so we went along. After the first round of drinks, Skip and Bob started eyeing the small stage, where a drum set and guitars were calling their names. After a few words with Tony (a drummer), an impromptu jam session began with Tony, Skip and Bob, who are both guitarists in bands when they are not working their day jobs. We settled into the comfy sofas and barstools and went along for the ride. In our frequent weekend gatherings on the Chesapeake, we are used to Bob or Skip entertaining us with their guitars, but this was amplified, professional-sounding stuff. Pretty cool. After our guys tired of the stage, Tony cranked up the French reggae. Our last full day ended with a flourish.
Rainy Endings
We’d managed a full week aboard without a single Hatch Drill until Monday morning at 5 a.m. I was hardly asleep anyway, since our only night in a marina meant our only warm night with hungry mosquitoes making a buffet of me. I resorted to covering up (sweaty) and cranking up the fan in order to fight off the marauders, and the rain at least gave me an excuse to close the ports.
We made our way back to Jolly Harbour in slightly gentler seas and intermittent squalls that provided the reward of rainbows. But right outside Jolly Harbour, we got a downpour; with no sign of it letting up, with carefully made our way from marker to market until we reach the fuel dock, at which time we turned over the helm to Horizon. Within a few hours after that, we finished up with the boat, packed, checked out, had lunch, and made our way to the airport.
Still rocking and rolling from a week aboard a boat, I’ve still got the fresh buzz of a great vacation. As I’ve said before, Horizon was fantastic and I would use them again. My impressions of Antigua, as a land destination, are pretty indifferent due to willy-nilly development and congestion and catering to the lowest common demoninator. There are, however, pockets where the amenities, the natural environment, and the staff (such as The Inn at English Harbour) would make me want to return – though it’s not normally my nature to sequester myself in a single location…. unless perhaps its Barbuda. As a sailing destination, Antigua is not set up with many amenities for the casual sailor. Moreover, the sometimes challenging sea conditions are not for the untried. But if you’re willing to make your own way, you’ll be hugely rewarded with largely empty anchorages, historical sites, and endless beautiful beaches.
So enthralled was I with Barbuda's beauty and isolation that I used this photo as my 2007 Christmas card: I dream of WHITE Christmases like this one!
