|Talented boaters from all over the anchorages & marinas|
We have Stopped/Started departing several times - no one truly believes we will really leave. Our insurance company would not, at the last minute, allow us to depart our 12.5 N. Lat position (just above Grenada at Carricou) until the actual stated date on the policy - 11/15 even though no hurricanes are predicted nor forming that would impact us. Bah.
We said our goodbyes to many of the boaters at a weekly Jam Session in Whisper Cove. So much talent and so much fun as the guys and one gal picked at notes, finding common ground in songs while the rest of us munched fish burgers - tuna - the real thing, of course and sipped beer in beautiful tropical grounds.
|She can truly make music with this|
|Note the lines from the bow into the water|
A staffer must come release the slimy lines at the mooring ball while we are actively at the helm and also releasing the rest of the dock lines. At this point, we're happy the boat off our port side has departed as we now have room to maneuver while we try to get our act together in departing. It's been so long not actively working the boat....port side? Huh? Spring line? How did I TIE that damn line? And on and on it went, while all our friends stood by, hooting and cat calling.
|Getting the lines off the bow of Finally Fun|
Racing fore and aft, and working with the lines, I could tell I had not yet fully healed from the fall I took down the 9 steps from the flybridge to the aft deck about 10 days ago...lucky lady I was then, for sure. We’d been cleaning the flybridge, with Andy on a ladder cleaning the radar arch when it began raining and then lightening popped. Boom! Scurrying down, telling Andy to get down and get inside the boat, wet and soapy, I slipped at the top step. I never let go of the rail until I hit the halfway point and another rail joins it, chopping my hand loose. Ugh, breath knocked out of me, lying flat on the deck, I kept trying to holler for Andy, but could only manage a squeak. He was still up top, under the bimini, wondering where I had gone as the rain poured. Our boat neighbor, Joanne, saw the whole episode. In seconds, she and Bill, her husband, were off their boat, racing for ours to help. Andy was still up top, yelling at Bill & Joanne -- “What’s up? Don’t you know it’s pouring??” He had no idea what had transpired. Phew. After I could get my breath back, they and Andy helped me up, got ice for my arm and my fanny. In seconds, I was black and blacker up my entire arm. Bottom line, my right rear rib cage was outlined with bruises, but nothing broken. My tail bone, well to say it still hurts to sit or get up or get comfortable is an understatement, all this time later. Bah. I am so blessed that I was not really hurt! And, yes, I headed down those stairs forward, not backward as one is supposed to do!
|Greg & Jen, our 'next door neighbors' waving goodbye|
|Departing our slip with friends waving Good Bye. Made me want to cry.|
Mixed emotions. A bit teary at leaving. We had such a wonderful time, met such wonderful people and made some great friends -- all in six months. Ah, our paths will cross many times again, I'm certain.
|Sunset at anchor outside Port Louis Marina..a wonderful ending to a great six months!|