Cane Garden Bay, Tortola, BVI

[Kyle]Since we knew we were now unlikely to dodge the charter crowd, we decided to go the other way and embrace it fully. Cane Garden Bay is definitely on virtually every charterer's itinerary. It is also one of the more popular stops for the cruise ship excursions. We'd visited twice back in 2009, and had fond memories.

Cane Garden Bay is lovely, though. It is the perfect size for an easy stroll and has about twice as many bar/restaurants as one would need to have a pretty diverse mix of choices, which gives the illusion of being able to be a tourist with free will. They also have a decent grocery store and a big, clean, cheap laundromat just steps from the dinghy dock.

Cane Garden Bay beach area, where each restaurant offers different colour beach umbrellas

The first thing Maryanne did ashore was pull me into a boutique in search of a replacement hat for herself. She found one that I liked on her better than the one at Saba Rock. Then she flipped over the price tag and saw it was "only" forty-five bucks, a bargin compared to the $225 one at Saba. When I told her we didn't have room aboard for five, she patted me on the head, exchanged a look with the proprietress and bought one. Oh, that works.

Our next stop was at Callwood's Distillery, because that's just what you do here. We were just turning to walk up the empty drive when five minibus loads of cruise ship passengers from Road Town came around the corner and pulled up to the building in a growing cloud of dust and exhaust. Oh, noooooo! Cruise Ship Day!

Callwood's Rum Distillery where we sampled a (repeat) Tour and Tasting

They were all here for "just" a tasting as they were on a full island tour. We wanted a distillery tour (plus a tasting). We then had the surreal experience of being given our own personal tour as the three of us (me, Maryanne and the guide) wove our way through the throngs on their way to and from the tasting room. Since Maryanne and I had the luxury of time, we were able to wait for a lull in the action for our tasting. We both decided our favorite was the one our guide called "for beginners". It was the same potency as the others, but didn't have that knock-you-in-the-chest effect apparently preferred by experienced rum aficionados.

Following that, we had a walk through the various restaurants along the beachfront. Again, we were about fifteen paces in front of a whole fleet of tour busses. By the time we had picked a restaurant, seats were disappearing fast and we were lucky to get a table. Our table actually seated six, so when we noticed a couple wandering around looking for a spot, we invited them to join us.

They were very nice. Originally from Connecticut, but recently retired to Florida, they regularly take cruises out of their new hometown of Tampa as a way to see lots of places without having to deal with airports. As we ate our delicious and generous lunch, they explained that there was just too much food on the boat for them to be interested in eating anything at all. We looked around and noticed that almost everybody else had no more than a rum punch they were nursing until it was time to get back on the bus.

At some point during our stay, Maryanne got it in her head that she wanted to walk the short distance to Mount Healthy National Park tomorrow. Sounds great, huh?

I tried to point out that every single road leading out of Cane Garden Bay was ridiculously steep, like 20% grade. Is she sure? She said she was (we were close to exhausting all that Cane Garden Bay had to offer, and she was keen for some more strenuous exercise).

We at least started our walk early enough that the entire western side of the island was in the shade. No sooner had we left the waterfront and started climbing than Maryanne started making noises about turning around or "letting me go ahead". Oh, no you don't! We're doing this thing.

To get to Mount Healthy, we had a short, but relentlessly steep climb to four hundred meters elevation, before plunging back to the site at 173 meters.

Mount Healthy is a diminutive National Park, which currently consists of a single roped-off abandoned windmill. It was used to crush sugar cane back in its day. At least there was an adjacent bench, where we could sit and view it while rehydrating.

The steep climb gave us some great views, and (eventually) we were at the ruins of the windmill

From there, Maryanne wanted to go home the short (horizontally) way via Brewers Bay. While technically shorter, going down to sea level, then back up to 250 meters, then back to sea level at Cane Garden Bay would involve more climbing. Maryanne said she wanted to do it that way to make sure we would have no choice but to get the rest of the exercise, once we were in Brewers Bay. {Maryanne:We could have simply retraced our steps, but that also involved a rather steep climb of 200m+ before the long descent, so it made sense to make a loop of the walk and see someplace different}.

Brewers Bay was surprisingly deserted. On the whole walk there and back out, we were only passed by two vehicles. Our planned respite at a restaurant/bar on the beach even failed when we were unable to locate anyone at all; despite the "open" sign, the bar was all locked up. After a brief rest and more water (We had brought LOTS of water with us), we resumed our trudge upwards.

Brewer's Bay was so very different from Cane Garden Bay despite the proximity - this is your get away from the crowd bay for sure!

By the time we limped back into Cane Garden Bay and set foot on our first mercifully flat pavement in miles, we were ready to call it a day. It was just barely past noon though, so we popped into yesterday's restaurant for a repeat of our delicious meal. There was no cruise ship today, so it was easy to get a good table right at the railing by the beach. The only other groups in the place were clearly charterers. The group nearest us was comical in how hard they were trying to force the Jimmy Buffet lifestyle on their second day away from the snows up north.

Back in Cane Garden Bay

With still more daylight left, we rowed back to Begonia for a load of laundry to do. While it was running, Maryanne let me babysit it in the sweltering laundromat while she went down the street to the store for some nice, heavy provisions.

When it was all done, we arrived back to our dinghy just behind a large group of charterers who had just had a lively dinner. One of them had had so much to drink that they had to carefully herd him down the dock and then pour him into the safety of their inflatable dinghy. Maryanne and I were a bit creaky ourselves as we lowered ourselves into our dinghy behind them. Ours was certainly from our long walk and not the one beer we shared over lunch. Still, when our heads finally hit our pillows, we were out cold for the rest of the night.

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Mooring Ball location >> On google maps

Jost Van Dyke, BVI

[Kyle]We had planned to spend two nights leisurely enjoying the quiet anchorage at Prickly Pear. Since it turned out not to be so quiet after all, I decided to pull one last trick out of my sleeve that I was pretty sure would work for getting us some solitude.

Way back in 2009, when we were first in the BVI, we found a lovely, if somewhat exposed, anchorage on the "prohibited" (to charter boats) north side of Jost Van Dyke. This anchorage was not in any of our guidebooks, but we did have one old chart that had an anchor symbol in one of the bays.

Even better, the bay with the anchor symbol wasn't particularly good, so we moved down the coast for two more indentations before we found our own "secret" anchorage. With a rare forecast for a couple days of southeast winds, now was our chance to see if it was a good option.

Dolphins briefly joined us on our arrival at Saddle Bay

From the eastern part of Virgin Gorda, it was a half-day spinnaker run to the western end of Jost Van Dyke. When we came around the headland to our anchorage, we found it almost the same as we had left it. The rocky bay was still devoid of boats, but the undeveloped hillside above now had three houses in various stages of construction. Still, there were no paths and no chance that anyone was going to be building a road down to the beach anytime soon. We dropped the anchor and all of our chain on a deep patch of sand below and settled in for a dark, quiet night.

Maybe once or twice a day, we would see some intrepid charter boat going the long way around Jost Van Dyke for some time in the "real" ocean, no doubt wondering if the company that owns our boat knew that we were violating our contract by anchoring there. Apart from that and the occasional glimpse of a distant construction worker above, our world was just Begonia, the mountain and the sea.

Apart from the lovely solitude, the anchorage didn't turn out to be as great as we remembered. Firstly, we were unable to find any adorable squid to entertain us, and our local swims revealed the coral to be largely dead now and silted over, with a corresponding drop in fish diversity and population. We had a couple of reasonable days of being gently rocked back and forth in a low swell, but then the wind and waves swung back to their normal northeast orientation and the motion became decidedly uncomfortable. By the time we pulled up the anchor on the third morning, we were both dying to get out of there.

Snorkelling around the shallows at Saddle Bay wasn't as fun as we last remembered, but still gave us a few treats (We spotted several of the Eagle Rays, and smaller Southern Stingrays)

[Maryanne]Yost Van Dyke is known more for its beach bars (especially Foxy's), but we spent our time this visit on the isolated NW coast. Dolphins visited (briefly) daily, and Kyle even managed a short swim with them, but mostly it was a restful time with very little happening; a most wonderful break.

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Anchorage location (Saddle Bay, Jost Van Dyke) >> On google maps

The North Coast of Virgin Gorda, BVI

[Kyle]We did a bit of tacking to get from the west side of Anegada to the eastern end of Eustatia Sound, on the north coast of Virgin Gorda. Our plan was to squeeze through the narrow pass through the reef at Oil Nut Bay and then anchor there for a couple of nights.

Once we pulled into the Oil Nut Bay, we found most of the bay had been cordoned off as a swimming area for a nearby resort, which seemed to deliberately not leave enough space remaining for anchoring. After checking it out, we found it shallow enough for us be able to swing within the available space. We both decided we felt too conspicuous as the only boat trying really hard to squeeze into an area where we were probably not welcome. Since we didn't feel like being hassled, we decided to head west until finding something more suitable.

This is when Maryanne suggested we pick up a mooring at Saba Rock. Picking up a mooring came with the benefit of also being able to top up our water tanks. Online, you can reserve a mooring for $55 per night, or you can pick up one of the first-come-first-served ones for $40 per night. The mooring field was empty when we arrived, so we obviously opted for the latter. Even better, our cheaper ball was THE closest one to Saba Rock, as if they had left one right up front for the first one to show up.

The passage across from Anegada was a bit squally (but rain and sunshine makes for rainbows!), and I (Maryanne) lost my favourite hat while we were in the middle of reefing. Arriving at the tiny "Saba Rock" resort I thought might give me the chance to replace it - but the price tag for the only full brim hat they had was $225! So its that kind of resort, and a replacement hat can wait (thankfully we have plenty of spare ones).

Except for about 10 meters of sandy beach in the back, Saba Rock is covered entirely with a very nice resort (although it is missing a pool). It is a perfect place to sit in a hammock with a rum drink in one hand and a book in the other. The danger, of course, is that if you finish your book, you'll end up with another rum drink in the other hand. Then the cheerful tropical music starts thumping and Happy Hour starts. Oh, dear! That's about when the charter boats started showing up.

We mostly hung out in the shade, and partook in a few bar games whilst waiting or happy hour

At 5pm daily they feed the resident Tarpon fish - each at least 5' long

Luckily, they also have a restaurant, so one's diet ashore does not need to be entirely liquid. Maryanne and I were able to watch the rapid tropical sunset and dusk from a table so close to Begonia that we could have floated our leftover box the three boat lengths home to our ravenous, and yet surprisingly ungrateful imaginary kids. That is, if we had a leftover box. The food was too good for that.

Instead, we untied the dinghy and let the trade winds blow us home without the need for hardly an oar stroke. Begonia was close enough that we still felt like we were part of the fun, only with our own private lounging area just outside the glare of the lights. At that point, we may have started nodding off a bit, which was a lot less embarrassing than being in a hammock and being shaken awake by a bartender telling us it might be time for us to go home.

The following morning I (Maryanne) went snorkelling around the tiny island while Kyle pottered aboard Begonia

One night on a mooring ball is more than enough, and after a few chores (topping up our water tanks) we departed and moved less than a mile to Prickly Pear Island. The idea was that we could anchor somewhere a little quieter than Saba Rock, hike the trails of the National Park, and then relax briefly at the Sand Box beach bar before returning home for the night.

It didn't work out that way at all. When we took the dinghy to shore, The Sand Box was still completely deserted and shuttered. We poked around the property for a bit until we found the gate leading to the island's one trail, which goes across the spine of the island to the beach on the northeast side. A sign on the gate asked us to keep it closed after going through, which we dutifully did.

After a brief walk on the island's southern beach, we encountered a big fence which blocked our access to the trail. Moving along it, we found several more gates with the same sign as the first. These gates, however, were all permanently screwed shut. Our "hike" ended up being a ten-minute poke through some bushes before retracing our steps back to the dinghy.

Despite being a weekend, the Sand Box never did open for the evening. Based on the look of the place, it seemed to have been left somewhat hastily and recently, as if the person who had been assigned to work today had a last-minute family emergency or something, or perhaps there was no more fuel for the generator and thus no way to turn on the lights. It did give the place a bit of a weird vibe with hundreds of beach lounges and umbrellas all lined up and completely vacant.

Vixen Point was (at least for the day we were visiting) eeriely abandoned ashore.

Our anchorage also turned out not to be as thinly populated as expected. As sunset became imminent, the place quickly filled up with boats too big for Saba Rock's moorings. This was the twenty-four hour generator and floodlight crowd, some with tenders bigger than Begonia, which could zip guests back and forth to Saba Rock in only a minute or two.

A quick snorkel in the shallows

I went for a cooling swim toward the beach and suddenly found myself with a large expanse of water between me and Begonia. On the way back to the boat, a high-pitched whining heard through the water alerted me to two electric hydrofoil boards that were zipping around the anchorage at high speed. having one of those plow into me would not feel good. Despite swimming home in the splashiest, most obvious way I could, neither of the hoverboarders seemed to make any attempt to steer clear. It was a relief to make one last underwater push at depth and then to finally surface between Begonia's hulls.

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Saba Rock Moorings location >> On google maps

Vixen Point, Prickly Pear Island Anchorage location >> On google maps