BRITISH VIRGIN ISLANDS 1995

Saturday 14 October 1995

Breakfast at the Blue Dolphin, on the 8:00 ferry, Anacortes at 9:15, stops at the Alderwood Mall Nordstrom Rack for a little shopping and Fisheries Supply for toilet parts for the boat, then to Nan's place where she fed us soup and homemade bread for lunch. Shopping again at Boeing Surplus...I bought a modem... and some of the computer and audio stores in South Center. Big and loud, much too loud for us. We can't take todays noisy superstores. Checked in at the Howard Johnson motel just south of the airport; $53 for the night and 7 days parking plus $4.95/day after 7 days, not too bad. To bed about 8:00; we've got to be at the airport at 4:30 in the morning.

Sunday 15 October 1995

Up at 3:15, ready to go at 4:00, shuttle to the airport at 4:15, there at 4:25, only to wait almost an hour for the American Airlines agent to show up. So much for being two hours early for an "International" flight. We were right on time out of Seattle at 8:09 and into Dallas/Fort Worth on schedule, but out of there we were a half hour late and we were also late getting in to San Juan. That made us miss the American Eagle flight we were scheduled to take to Tortola but, no sweat, they just put us on one scheduled for 8:40. While we were waiting for that one I picked up my checked dive gear bag and brought it out to the gate. The only problem was that I'd forgotten about the dive knife in the bottom of the bag which security took away from me. They said it would be at the airport in Tortola. Hah, I figured goodby knife. Not a great loss...I've got two of them that I've not used for years. They cancelled the 8:40 flight at 10:00. Oh well, not to worry, AA put us up in the Sands Hotel, bought our dinner and breakfast, and gave us two $100 vouchers for the inconvenience. We're now scheduled for the 8:35 in the morning. I got hold of Paul at the Mariner Inn in Road Town. They had problems getting there too, but will attend the Moorings briefing in the morning.

Monday 16 October 1995

Up again at 6:30 (3:30 Seattle time), skipped our voucher breakfast and headed for the airport. Got there about an hour before flight time and this time things went right on schedule: boarding at 8:10, off the ground at 8:45, and into Tortola at 9:30 where Moorings had a van waiting for us. The Tortola airport is located on tiny Beef Island about twenty minutes drive from Road Town and has a very Caribbean atmosphere...a nicely uniformed black immigration clerk checked or passports and another asked what what we had in our bags and waved us on. Two chickens, a cock and a hen, accompanied us as we sat on the curb outside the terminal waiting for our driver to make sure no other Moorings customers were on the flight.

Got to the marina just in time for the 352 "boat show" which a pleasent young lady was doing on our boat, the CARPE DIEM, for us and four other couples. She went through all of the boat systems in pretty rapid order then left us to do the inventory and get comfortable with the boat. It's a nice little machine and surprisingly roomy for a 35 foot boat.

The Mariner Inn Marina

Carpe Diem Galley

It has a full 6' 6" headroom in the salon area, a real plus for me. It took us until about 2:30 to do the inventory, rent dive tanks, and check out the boat enough to be ready to go. The boat was tied between a float and a couple of concrete pilings and we decided to take the ladies offer to have one of the "boys" move it out for us. Good thing we did...he banged the barbecue on the next boat in maneuvering it out.

Three o'clock and we're on our way, heading for a small island about five miles to the south called Norman Island which Moorings had suggested in the morning briefing. We motored this afternoon because there was a pretty good breeze and I wanted to do some playing with the sails in calm wind before getting serious about sailing. We anchored in a nice little bay called "The Bight" at the west end of Norman, changed into our swim suits and went snorkling. Beautiful, 85 degree water, and reasonably clear. There were eight boats there as we arrived and fifteen or twenty more before dark. I'd gotten out of the water when a CYC with an upside down dinghy came in and dropped his hook not far from ours. Sis and Paul were still in the water and while they were helping the people on the CYC get the ding right side up...they'd somehow dumped it on the way across...the CYC started dragging down on our boat. I started the engine and back away but we had an anxious few moments. After that I decided to get far away from our friend so we hauled up and moved across the bay, anchoring in 50 feet of water well away from other boats.

Chicken breasts and green salad for dinner. Moorings sure loaded us with lots of food. We'll be eating good.

Tuesday 17 October 1995

It was still nearly 90o when we went to bed but the wind kept gusting all night and by morning the temperature was down to 80. I sure slept good, didn't wake until almost seven o'clock. Sail practice this morning went pretty well. We have roller furling on the jib and an open sail cover for the main which makes it pretty easy to raise and lower. All the sheets and halyards are brought back to four winches just forward of the cockpit so there's little reason to go out on the deck. We've got a nice Bimini over the cockpit which helps with the sun. We sailed for a couple of hours and then went over to a group of pinnacle rocks called the "Indians", tied to a buoy and went diving. It was the first time I'd done any serious diving since we left Mexico, and I'd never used my BC, so it took a while to get my weights adjusted but then it went pretty well. Sis, Paul, and I dove for about twenty minutes and went down to a little over 50 feet in the fish, sponge and coral filled water. Neat! This is going to be a fun trip.

After our dive, we sailed again, this time back across past Peter Island and Road Town to Cooper Island where Baskin-in-the-Sun told us we could get our air tanks filled. This time Sis was at the helm and we were getting really comfortable with the sails and we sailed most of the way. We got there a little after 3:00 and tied to a buoy ($15.00/night). Problem was that Underwater Safari's air compressor is broken down. We have to wait until morning for them to bring tanks from Tortola. Okay, settle down for another nice evening. Had barbecued kabobs and fruit salad for dinner. Yep, we're eating good. Music and partying on a big sailing ship anchored just outside the buoys until after midnight. I don't think we're likely to find any quiet, isolated anchorages in these islands.

Sailing

Wednesday 18 October 1995

Paul Driving

Poked around on the boat for a while this morning waiting for the Underwater Safaris boat to arrive with our air tanks. They got here all right, but after 9:00 rather than the 8:30 we'd been told. That was early enough though. Paul was helmsman for the day and motored (He's not too patient with sailing) around the corner of Salt Island to the "Wreck of the Rhone" and drove right up to the white buoy nearest to the wreck. (White buoys are for non-commercial divers.)

This time Paul, Eleanor, and I first went for a snorkel survey of the wreck, then they got their dive gear on and went down on the wreck while I watched from above.

Sis

The Rhone was a 310 foot steam ship that went on the rocks there in 1867. The stern is only about fifteen feet below the surface and the aft half of the ship, including the propeller, huge drive shaft, and boilers, slopes down to about fifty feet; the bow section is broken off and lies in 80 feet of water. We only explored the stern section. I had decided not to dive because I felt I could see better from above. There's not much pretty sea life growing on the wreck...sure not like similar artificial reefs in northern waters. It was fun to watch two divers poking around down below with their bubbles floating up around me.

From the Rhone we drove, Paul still at the helm, to South Bay on Ginger Island which he'd read about called Alice in Wonderland. The article said that "dedicated divers ignor the swell in order to experience the wonders". Well, we only have one really dedicated diver on board. There is a buoy in the bay. We tied to that and, while the ladies stayed on the rolling boat, Paul and I went snorkling to see what was down there. Yep, it might be a pretty dive but just getting on our gear in that exposed place would have been a real hassle. Three votes to two (The helmsman gets an extra vote) we deferred.

On to new adventures. This time even though Paul was at the helm we out voted him and made him sail. Had a nice sail for the five or so miles across to the Dog Islands where, after consulting with the guys on a catamaran there, anchored near where they said there is the wreck of an airplane. Paul and Lois went out in the ding and found the airplane with the help of her little inflatable viewer. About then a squall blew in, it was windy and raining, and a little late for diving so we just settled down for the night. Had saute'd dorado for dinner...too wet and windy for the barbecue tonight.

I was a little nervous about our ground tackle; we were in forty feet of water and I'd put out all 90 feet of chain plus fifty or sixty nylon but when Paul checked he said that much of the chain was in a pile. No problems though. I got up several times in the night to check the GPS and depth sounder and we stayed put very nicely.

Thursday 19 October 1995

And with our morning snorkel we found out why. Not only the chain but the rope was wound around a big coral head leaving us tied as firmly as if we'd been moored. Worried about chaffing the nylon, I stayed on the boat while Sis and Paul got on their dive gear. Sis stayed on the surface and signaled me while Paul went down to release the rode. I was going to haul in the anchor line when he had freed it; but, when I tried, the windless wouldn't run. It took me two calls to Moorings, talking to four different people, before I learned that you have to have the engine running for the electric windless to work. Once we got that figured out things came together. Lois and I hauled in the nylon, leaving only the chain to hold us, and Sis and Paul went on with their dive. They spent fifteen minutes or so poking around on the airplane hull, one of the commuter planes like American Eagle used to fly, and the surrounding coral heads. When they came back Paul and I went back down so I could take a look. (Paul was using the full tank that I hadn't used yesterday so we each had about a half tank left.) The airplane fuselage, in about forty feet of water, looks much bigger when seen from below than from the surface.

The wings and engines are gone, as well as the windows and doors, but the fuselage sits straight upright on a sandy bottom. We had a hard time understanding how it could have crashed there and later learned that it had been brought over from Beef Island by a group of divers. It looks kind of neat to see a big Moray eel sticking his head out of the remains of a cowling and hundreds of coral fishes swimming inside the plane. Not far away there is a large coral bed where big schools of colorful reef fish play. Paul and I finished our dive there.

Fish

We got our gear off, rinsed and stowed, the anchor up, and headed out. It was still only 9:30, Lois was at the helm, and as soon as we got into open water we outvoted her (This time Paul voted for sailing) and went to sail. There was a nice 5-10 knot breeze and for the next three hours we sailed eastward into the wind toward our destination of Gordo Sound, or North Sound as the locals seem to call it. By now Lois was getting into the swing of sailing, especially when she got the speed reading up to 4.8 knots. Gordo Sound is the site of a big resort and Moorings out-station called the Bitter End. Motoring in through and entrance which looks pretty narrow on the charts but which is really quite roomy, we tied to a buoy in front of the Bitter End Yacht Club and were immediately met by Moorings rep, Christina, running up in an inflatable and inviting us to a "complimentary rum punch party" at 6:00 o'clock. It was about 2:00 then. While the ladies showered, Paul and I went ashore and had the dive tanks filled at Kilbrights, a dive outfit which shares the building with Moorings. This time there was no delay and a friendly young lady had the tanks ready in fifteen minutes. Bitter End is a fancy resort with all the trappings...hotel, restaurant, boutiques, dive shop, sport shop (sailboards, etc), grocery store, and fuel dock. We took our filled tanks back to the boat and then went to the fuel dock to fill the water tank while the now pretty ladies took the ding ashore for a look. They charge twelve cents a gallon for desalinized water at the dock. We took on only 45 gallons. That's pretty good for four people for four days.

We didn't stay to long at the Moorings party. A couple of rum punches and popcorn were enough to send us home for dinner. Paul and I had checked out the menu at the yacht club where the party was held...$30.00 per head, plus extra for steak, fish, or lobster, plus 15% "gratuity". We figured it would have cost us $200 to eat there so we opted to go back to the boat for hamburgers.

Friday 20 October 1995

Cloudy and threatening to rain this morning as we cast off our mooring. Paul and I had gone back to the Emporium to buy ice before we left. They had no block and wanted $4.00 a bag for the crushed. We settled for two. Bitter End is a pretty pricey place. My turn at the helm. Motored out to the entrance then set the sails for a downwind run this time. We were heading for a tiny rock island called the Cockroach near the Dog group and the wind was directly behind us for quite a while. Then it died completely. We weren't in any big hurry because it was raining in the distance ahead and diving visibility isn't really good in the rain. Before long, though, the gentle squall got to us, the wind picked up again, this time from the southwest, and we went booming along in a warm, gentle rain. Paul even broke out the foul weather gear, although we really didn't need it.

There are two dive buoys at Cockroach, one very close to the rocks and another out a hundred yards or so. There was also a long swell coming out of the northeast which made both locations pretty rolly, so we decided to take a look at George Dog just a quarter mile away. Yep, another buoy over there. We tied to it and ate a lunch of hot dogs before going in for a snorkle survey. It's a pretty nice snorkle spot, quite a few fish and different kinds of coral, but it didn't look like we see much more diving than we did snorkling, so we ran back over to Cockroach for a look there. As we slid into the water off the outer buoy a half dozen barracuda watched us watching them. I kind of circled them with Sis and Paul herding them toward me and one big guy stopped and let me get close. They sure look mean with those fierce eyes and big teeth. This looked like a better place for a dive so we went back, put on our gear, and went down for about twenty minutes. Lots of neat things to see that I'm not able to describe very well. There are hundreds of varieties of reef fish the names of which I can't remember, and there were a lot of them here today. Paul and I ran into one large school of pale colored fish hiding in a deep crevice in the rock. On the bottom near where our buoy was tied is a fish trap made of small tree limbs and chicken wire. Looked like it had been made by a local fisherman and somehow lost here. I came back to the boat with 1500 pounds of air left out of over 3000. The lady at Kilbright's gave us a good fill.

From Cockroach we ran over to the west end of Great Dog, tied to another buoy, and snorkled there for a while. The books talk about the "Chimneys" but the only thing that looked like chimneys to us were some of the rocks above water. We didn't dive there, instead we ran over to West Dog and tied to a buoy very close to some very big rocks. (The people who place the buoys out here seem to know what they are doing. The white dive buoys seem to be placed close to interesting things; and, although they often look like they are too close to the rocks, we've not had a problem.)

We used the last of our air at West Dog...more big schools of fish and lots of coral, then it was on to a place to fill the tanks. The books say that can be done at Marina Key, a small resort island off the south of Great Camanoe. When we got there, however, their compressor was down. Well, it was four o'clock and too late to go elsewhere, so we anchored in the bay. I didn't set the hook well the first time and we started drifting toward another boat during happy hour, so I had to ask Paul to haul in for another try after his first drink. He thought we should have picked up a mooring buoy. Steak on the barbecue for dinner. It looked like we were set for the night, but at dusk the mosquitoes arrived, tiny, nasty little guys that had my ankles burning like fire. I had to give up and go to bed at seven o'clock with a sheet for protection. The heat was easier to take than the insects.

Saturday 21 October 1995

Well, the mosquitoes went home to bed about ten last evening and didn't come back, at least not in the hordes that drove me to bed last night. This morning dawned bright and beautiful with one of the spectacular sunrises that only the combination of towering cumulus and high ciris can produce. We ate breakfast on the deck then headed out with Sis at the helm. There was no wind so we motored north between Scrub and Little Camanoe Islands and then turned west along the north shore of Tortola. Most of the north shoreline is steep and rocky, rising several hundred feet above the water; but every mile or so the rock face is broken by a watershed and lovely sand beach with palms growing behind. It wouldn't be an easy place to land a boat because even today, with a very quiet sea, the northeast swell formed big breakers on the beach. High above the beaches the hillside is dotted with buildings and there is occasionally a cleared area on the steep hillside, but it's not a place that's likely to get overcrowded.

We didn't stop until we got to Cane Garden Bay, about 8 miles from where we'd started. There we ran through a well marked, narrow entrance to the bay and, tieing to a buoy, went ashore to find a lovely, low key, tourist resort. There's a long, white sand beach, at least two reasonably priced hotels, and several shops and restaurants, also with reasonable prices. We walked the length of the beach and back barefoot, only to find that the rum distillery we'd heard about was at the far end. Okay, back, but this time along the road with our shoes on. Hardly worth the effort...the distillery wasn't operating today and the taste we had of their rum didn't entice us to buy any. Nice walk though. On the way back we picked up a coconut by the side of the road and, as we passed his bus, a friendly tour guide offered to open it for us. He did a masterful job of husking it with a machete, using a technique I'd never seen before. Lois and Sis bought T-shirts at one of the beachside shops for $10.00 each and ice here was $2.50 as compared to the $4.00 at Bitter End.

Back at the boat we went searching for a place to snorkle at Jost Van Dyke Island about three miles away. We anchored the boat in a very well protected nook between Jost VD and Little Jost VD and took the ding out to Green Kay where we'd heard there was good snorkling. This time the book was right. We landed the ding on a pretty sand beach and, leaving Lois to enjoy the scenery ashore, snorkled south along a large coral reef with lots of fish and beautiful coral formations. The visibility wasn't great because of the surf but there was sure plenty to see.

Just Sunning Back at the boat, we decided to see a little more of Jost Van Dyke while we were here, hauled up, and ran around to Great Harbor on the south side of the island. It's a big harbor with plenty of room to anchor dozens of boats without being crowded. That's where we spent a pretty comfortable night if you discount having to get up several times to shut ports and hatches when a rain squall came through.

Sunday 22 October 1995

08:00 Off and running for our last day of cruising. Our first project was to find air. We'd been told that it was available at Baskin-in-the-Sun at Soper's Hole, a nook at the far west end of Tortola where the international ferrys from Saint Thomas land. Paul was driving and, with the aid of the GPS, brought us in right on the mark. I had tried calling Baskin to confirm they had air but got no answer on the VHF; so, we tied to a buoy in the harbor and I ran in in the ding. Guess what. Yep, you got it first try. Their compressor is working fine but their fill station was wiped out by the hurricane and isn't back in operation yet. No air for our tanks here; closest place would be Nanny Key, about five miles away on the south side of the island. At least the nice lady in the Baskin shop called Blue Water Divers in Nanny Key to make sure they could fill our tanks and in another hour we were there. Nanny Key is a tiny island attached to Tortola by a causeway with a marina that is packed full of boats. Paul did a good job of negotiating a very narrow passage and docking us right in front of Blue Water Divers where we at last got our tanks filled. The nice young lady there also suggested a dive site near Norman Island called Santa Monica Rock which she said should be great in today's calm weather.

So, on to the dive. We ran over to Norman Island, tied to a buoy there, had lunch, and then went snorkling in front of some large sea caves on the west end. It was really a nice swim...millions of shiners in one of the caves, needlefish in another, and the Sergent Majors and Yellowtail followed us everywhere. Evidently they have been fed by divers. I'm getting a cold and was a little worried that I'd have trouble with my ears, but snorkling caused no problem. So, we set up our gear and headed out to Santa Monica Rock, about a mile out to sea to the southwest. Again using GPS, Paul found the white dive buoy right where the map said it should be. The pinacle rock is covered with one fathom and the buoy is in about 35 feet of water. We went down and around the rock, peeking into some crevices and caves as we went. Saw all the little reef fish, dozens of kinds of coral, and a school of barracuda. Pretty nice dive, but I enjoyed the snorkling at the Caves more. I haven't done enough Scuba diving in recent years to be able to just relax and enjoy as I can do when snorkling.

After our dive, Sis and Paul went back in to snorkle a while longer, then we raised the sails and I got in the ding with three cameras and took pictures of the Carpe Diem under sail. There was a nice little breeze and bright sun. Some of the pictures ought to turn out good. We motored our way, at 1,500 rpm with the frige on, to our overnight anchorage in Great Harbor on the north shore of Peter Island just across from Road Town. In the morning it won't take us long to get back to Moorings. We have to clean up the boat and be off of it by noon. The Carpe Diem

Monday 23 October 1995

More problems with the windless this morning as we started to haul anchor. This time the engine was running but still we had no power. I fiddled with the circuit breaker for a while with no success and had about resigned myself to hauling it by hand when Paul, repeating the same fiddling that I had done, got it working. I think there must be a relay somewhere that doesn't kick in if the battery is a little low. Well, it was our last anchor hauling anyway. We left Great harbor about eight with Lois driving and were docked at Moorings a little after nine. Turned out that they didn't want us to clean the boat as I had expected. The lady who checked us in said to just leave it empty and "tidy", a professional cleanup crew would do the rest. She quizzed us about problems and welcomed us back. That was it.

We turned in the dive tanks and weights we'd rented, called Budget, and within a few minutes had all our gear loaded in a mini-van and were on our way to new adventures with Paul at the wheel. (You have to buy a BVI drivers license for $10.00 if you want to drive here, and Paul has more experience than I in driving on the wrong side of the road, so we elected him.) Lois and I weren't feeling all that good because of our colds, so our first priority was to find a nice place to stay for the night. We drove west from Road Town along the south shore road and then north across the mountain to Long Bay. We'd heard that the Long Bay Beach Resort was a pretty nice place. Well, it looked pretty ritzy all right but they didn't have any rooms so we were out of luck there. We stopped at a couple of other places along the road but ended up back in Cane Garden Bay at the Old Works Inn which we checked out when we were here Saturday.

View View from Olde Works Inn It's not a really fancy place but the air conditioning works and it's clean, and the beautiful beach is just across the road. Sis and Pual went swimming while Lois and I took a nap and nursed our colds. Had dinner at a place called Myeta's...excellent barbecued chicken but their Mahi Mahi wasn't outstanding. Tomorrow we'll go touring.

Tuesday 24 October 1995

And tour we did, even though I seem to be loosing my battle with my cold or flu or whatever's got me. We left the hotel about 7:30, before any of the restaurants here were open for breakfast, and headed up into the hills that make up most of the Island of Tortola. Paul did a magnificent job of coping with the narrow, twisting, roads. Some of the switchbacks are so tight that, if it hadn't been for the short turning radius of our little Subaru van, we'd have had to back and fill to get around them. Some of the time we were thankful for the 4-wheel drive.

We climbed from Cane Garden Bay to the top of the island then pretty much followed what ridge there is from west to east, several times dropping from the 1,500 foot level down almost to the sea and then back up. The views are spectacular. Often we'd come to a place where we could see down on both sides of the island, the beautiful deserted bays to the north and the city of Road Town on the south.

Road Town

Not a whole lot of population at the high elevation, although every once in a while we'd come upon a magnificent mansion built on a hilltop. We stumbled on one lovely resort above Josiahs Bay called the Tamarind but no cafes or restaurants where we could get breakfast. Breakfast spots seem to be few and far between. At the east end of the island we dropped down into Long View, or Long Swamp as the map shows it, and turned west toward Road Town again. Not until we got to the center of town did we find our breakfast place: Olivers, a second floor bar and cafe near Moorings. They were just getting started with serving at 10:30. Not many early risers here.

After breakfast we continued our tour back up Joe's Hill Road to Sage Mountain, the highest point on the island at 1,710 feet, then back down again, joining the road we'd taken yesterday on the way to Cane Garden Bay. Up and down, up and down, and hundreds of speed bumps on every road, although you wonder why they need them. We'd read about a small resort at Smugglers Cove on the far northwest end of the island beyond Long Bay. It sounded pretty good, so we headed out this dirt and rock road to find it. After half an hour of bouncing...the little Subaru has pretty stiff suspension...we arrived at a beautiful beach with a sign saying Smugglers Cove. But there was no resort, just a few very beat up cottages which looked like they had almost weathered the hurricane before the management gave up and moved to California. Too bad, it's sure a pretty beach. I wasn't feeling up to it, but Sis and Paul put on their swim suits and went snorkling in the surf. Sure hard to beat the beaches here.

Back along the bouncy road and over the hill to Soper's Hole to check out a couple of other possible places to stay for the night. No luck...there are two places there but one very ritzy place called Frenchman Cove Resort had no rooms, and the other, the Jolly Roger, looked like a noisy flophouse. So we got on the phone and called the Old Works. Yep, we could have rooms at Cane Garden again. By the time we got there I had pretty much faded. I haven't had a cold, or flu, or whatever like this for years. I went to bed and stayed there. Lois is feeling much better but opted to skip dinner at Quito's. Sis and Paul said it was pretty good.

Wednesday 25 October 1995

And not feeling all that much better in the morning. Sis and Paul went snorkling again out on the reef while Lois and I stayed in the hotel. While they were swimming someone stole one of the hotel towels and Paul's hat off the palm tree trunk where they'd left them. At first the hotel clerk, a pretty young black lady named Junie, said they charged $20.00 for a lost towel; but, after consulting with Quito Rhymer, the owner, she dropped the charge.

It turns out that Quito not only owns both hotels in town but he also provides the entertainment in his restaurant and painted many of the pictures with which both are decorated. Pretty talented and friendly guy. Junie told Paul that they hadn't had a problem with things being ripped off on the beach. We checked out about 10:30 and drove back across the mountain to Road Town where we'd made a reservation at the Moorings.

The Moorings Mariner Inn is a really nice hotel and we had a room right by the swimming pool; but again, I went to bed while Lois shopped and Sis and Paul went to the Botanical Gardens. The three of them went to dinner and brought me home a dish of ice cream. I haven't been able to eat anything for two days now. I'm sure not looking forward to that long ride tomorrow. The Mariner Inn Pool

Thursday 26 October 1995

And a long ride it was. We were up about 3:30 (Seattle Time), had a bit of breakfast...I was able to choke down a dish of cornflakes, and off to the airport at 5:15. I'd had diarrhea during the night but Sis had given me a Lomotil and that seemed to be under control. Off the ground on the first leg just before seven for the short flight into San Juan. Lugging the baggage from baggage claim to customs was a super effort but we made it. They have a pretty good system: you pick up your bags, take them a hundred feet or so to customs, then, when they clear you, drop them on an American Airlines conveyer belt. They are already checked through. We had a three hour wait in San Juan but our flight was on time and we were on our way again at 10:35 for the five hour flight to Chicago. It, the hour layover there, and the four hour flight on into Seattle were pure torture for me. My chest hurt, my back hurt, my head hurt, my arms hurt, there was nothing in my body that didn't hurt. But I made it. On the ground I called the Howard Johnson where we'd parked the car and they were there almost immediately. They also had a room for us. Wow! A night's rest at last after 18 hours of misery.

Friday 27 October 1995

Up and going about 7:30, rested but still in the grip of whatever bug has got me. All either of us could think of was getting home. Drove straight to Anacortes to catch the 9:50 ferry, were home before 11:30, and spent the rest of the day doing nothing.