Cruising World - - The Way It Was -

rom the Baths we made the short mo­tor over to Col­lis­ton Point, picked up a moor­ing, and dinghied ashore to the docks at Span­ish Town’s Vir­gin Gorda Yacht Ser­vices, where the dam­age was also clearly ex­ten­sive. We were off to a restau­rant called Coco Maya, an Asian-fu­sion place on the beach that had been uni­ver­sally rec­om­mended by just about ev­ery­one.

Coco Maya was as good as ad­ver­tised. Aaron, the Kiwi owner, said the struc­ture, with the ex­cep­tion of some snapped wire rig­ging that kept the place up­right, was prac­ti­cally un­scathed. “We were in­cred­i­bly lucky,” he said, touch­ing one of the wooden bar stools.

As it was Parker and Karen’s 30th an­niver­sary, Sasha and I re­paired to the bar so the love­birds could have their own pri­vate ta­ble. Look­ing out at the palm trees, the open-air lay­out and the gleam­ing beach, Sasha said, “This re­minds me of Hawaii.” It was cer­tainly out of this world. And so were the zigzag­ging stars over­head from the Gem­i­nids me­teor shower we took in af­ter­ward, back on trusty Hull 311. It was a pretty per­fect end to a ter­rific day.

With time run­ning out on our trip, the next morn­ing found us reach­ing back down Sir Fran­cis Drake Chan­nel in a gen­tle south­east­erly, bound for the Bight on Nor­man Is­land. Once there, we were con­fronted with one last glimpse of

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