Our Barbuda camping trip started a little later than first planned and we were the last boat to leave Antigua on Saturday afternoon. My dad and his crew as well as his neighbor, Steve Mendes and his crew both left after lunch, but we didn’t set off out of Jolly Harbour until after 4 pm. On this trip I wanted to do a bit of a tour of Barbuda instead of camping all in one area as we have been doing for the past few years. My uncle Nick (Dr. Fuller) had arrived in Barbuda a few days earlier on his boat “Nicole” with Captain Derek Biel from the fishing boat “Obsession” as his crew. They were anchored up at the beautiful Spanish Point doing some fishing. Before we arrived Richard King and his wife anchored up there as well on “Kingdom”. We thought that Spanish Point would be a good starting place for our camping session so upon leaving Jolly Harbour I set the GPS chart plotter’s course for that point. As soon as we came around the point into Five Islands Harbour, I saw a huge cloud up in the North-East which wasn’t the best thing to see when you are making a crossing that late in the day. Anyway, we were going to make a go of it. I cruised up a little higher along the coast to try and get a good angle towards Spanish Point and we ended up cutting through the Boons barrier reef offshore Blue Waters Hotel. We were going meet head on with the squall in no time and the winds were already licking up the sea throwing angry spray at us as if meant to cause discomfort. Although the sea was getting very choppy, the winds hadn’t been around long enough to make it really rough. I knew with winds this strong it was sure to get rough pretty quickly so I pushed on as quickly as I could doing speeds around 25 knots on average. The rains stung when they arrived but Mykl and I already had our wind breakers on so it wasn’t as bad as I have felt many times on this trip years ago. For the entire trip across we were engulfed in squally conditions and eager to get into the peaceful protection of Spanish Point. It didn’t take that long and pretty soon we were coming down along the breakers into the channel and then behind the barrier reef which protects what the Barbudans call White Bay. As soon as we were anchored up I was ready for getting wet the proper way. I launched one of the Kayaks we had taken with us, and paddled out to the barrier reef with my mask and snorkel. IT was sunset and the fish were exceptionally excited which is usually the case during “the magic hour”. Being out there on the reef that late with all the action happening is as exciting as it is spooky. When I got back to the boat it was time for a shower and some tea. The sky had cleared up and the stars were starting to burst out into view like they can only do in the wilderness. People who don’t get far away from artificial lights never see the sky as the rest of us do on occasions like this. I always am quite awe struck to see this many stars, and find it quite relaxing which is the intended affect one looks for when out camping i guess. Dinner made on the grill seems to always taste so good, and that night it was marinated fresh chicken breast with grilled sweet peppers of various colours. We had snacked a bit too much before dinner and all we could handle was the peppers and chicken. Sleep came fast and intense that night, and I almost didn’t have time to enjoy the gentle sound of water lapping at the boat’s hull.
The next morning I was woken by the Devil!
“Devil”, pronounced “DebbeLL” is a close family friend and lifelong fisherman in Barbuda. His real name is Vernon Joseph and some other time I will have to write about this amazing man. He was taking my uncle and Derek out diving which is what he has been doing since they invented tanks. He scuba dives for fish, conch and lobster commercially by himself outside the barrier reefs in the Atlantic. Every PADI type rule is broken by him every day but there is probably not a better diver anywhere in these islands. He also is one of the fittest sixty something year olds that you will find. After saying “good morning” he and his new crew were off into and out of the channel towards the Atlantic bound for one of his secret dive spots. We had some b’fast and decided to make a move around the east coast towards a cut in the barrier that I know about.
All forecasts described nice calm weather which would mean a nice anchorage inside the reef on the windward side. 
IT would be a perfect for beachcombing, fishing, snorkeling and exploring, and all looked like things would be perfect that morning. Once we arrived at the best spot for anchoring just off the beach I decided to set two anchors instead of just one.
After all, we planned on going for a long walk along the deserted beach and wanted to leave the boat safe by itself. Walks on these windward facing deserted beaches are always very enjoyable to me for a number of reasons. Obviously having a beach to oneself is great wherever you are, but the interesting things you see make for a great long walk.
In one of my blogs I wrote about all the flotsam and jetsam that we find here and although we saw loads of other stuff we didn’t manage to find any messages this time.
Garbage on the beach can be very interesting if you know or try to know how it got there.
After a good 90 minutes or so we decided to stop for some lunch which we had packed.
We sat on a huge log that had recently drifted up and it was then that we noticed a massive squall quickly approaching. Summer squalls are frequent in August and usually don’t last long. They approach quickly raising the winds up above 25 knots usually. Once the incredibly heavy rains have chased everyone off the beach the squall passes on leaving lovely sunshine and calm winds in its wake.
We decided to start walking back to the boat after seeing how massive this squall appeared to be. We were going to be in for a strong one and as the winds started to howl I began to worry about my camera….and more importantly the boat 90 minutes away. 
On the way we passed Ffreys Bay where there was having a massive concert for Carnival, but that didn't take us away from the sunset.
Apart from the lights at Hermitage Hotel, we were alone in Five Islands Harbour and the moonlight was dazzling. In fact it was so bright that we could see the many Moon Jellyfish in the waters below. Depending on the currents and bays, moon jellyfish congregate in large numbers at this time of year and we had found one of those spots. A bit of midnight skinny dipping would have been a big mistake and a real pain in the ass.
Anyway, the grilled red and yellow peppers with baked potatoes went down beautifully with some medium rare rib eye steaks. Sitting up on the bow with our meal and the moonlight it was hard to imagine a better place to be in the world.
The faint booming from the St. Johns sound systems didn’t persuade me that I was missing out. The early morning tea before the eco boat passed us on its way to Hermitage bay was awesome too. The thing works!
Let’s hope that the weather in the Atlantic behaves itself for both carnival revelers and campers alike though. 
and even schools of flying fish, but in the end we returned home without success. IT was awful and losing Inigo Ross who was the co-founder of Wadadli Cats was a huge blow to me and the island. He was a hero to many.
Up until now, I don’t have the story but obviously something went very wrong for them to end up in Saba over four days after they left port. I am so happy that this story had a happy ending. I don’t need to say what lessons should have been learned here as it’s pretty obvious from the facts above. This was a near disaster and I think there needs to be a day when all boats going off-shore are required to carry EPIRBS. I don’t leave home without mine. 
This prehistoric creature only comes up onto the beach once every few years after it reaches maturity will not be returning again. Only female turtles come ashore and they can only nest on beaches. To get to maturity and to this beach, she's had to pass almost insurmountable odds and it’s just so sad that one person has put a stop to it all.
Depending on which study you read and where the study was conducted you may see that only 1 in 3000 or as bad as 1 in 10000 eggs reach maturity. She may never have an offspring that is able to nest. Maturity in general is somewhere between 20 and 40 years depending on many different factors.
Of course it is totally illegal to kill these endangered animals or even to touch their eggs but unfortunately there are still a few people here doing the damage. There are millions of factors which do harm to the turtles, and in Antigua poachers are not the biggest problem. The worst problem is that our people don’t understand how all the factors come together to wipe out our important indigenous animals and plants. These animals were here before us and unfortunately will be wiped out very quickly unless change is made. Creating awareness of the issues and problems as well as the positive things will help. Studies like this one will end up being a very important tool in the fight to protect the ever disappearing habitat too. After all it is habitat destruction which is more of a problem here in Antigua than poachers. Key nesting beaches are on the move towards development and great care needs to be taken when making the plans. Anyway, for now this is a great push to gain info and to educate our island about the sea turtles that were here long before the ancient amerindians lived here. Keep an eye open for crawls while you are here on the island or on a boat trip. Call the turtle hotline on (+1 268) 773 8448 and leave a message if you see a nesting or someone troubling a nest. As with most things to do with "saving the environment" EACH OF US CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE.
Yes this is me with +1 specs on! JD snapped this pic of me and tony checking the weather. I now have to use glasses to use my laptop. Tony and JD were drunk with tiredness. 
IT had been a great trip for us and it was very nice to just be chilling with the core crew on the last night. As you can see, Tony felt the same:
I didn’t regret sitting out the race and would leave it up to the wind god to decide what would happen that day. IT was so beautiful up there and we rigged up the sails slowly and relaxed peacefully in the shade.
I could feel Tony getting upset that this was our last full day in the BVI. It had been a trip of a lifetime for him so far and although JD had been missing Antigua’s two biggest parties of the year The White Fete and the Blue Jeans Fete, he was also enjoying the time in the BVI. I took this pic of them playing in Sir Richard Branson's swimming pool. 
Rusty, the race director wanted desperately to have a 5th race and would even have a sixth if the winds were strong enough. He decided to send us out to try and do a race before lunch. It was very light and not enough to get up moving with any speeds. After the start we limped up to the windward mark…..it was going to be a hot long boring race around Sandy Cay despite how beautiful it all was. 
Sitting in about 8th place at the windward mark, I wasn’t surprised to see the abandonment flag flying from a chase boat and turned around to head back to the shore. We had lunch before I could eat that last mouthful the winds picked up out of nowhere. I would never have guessed the winds would have come back and Rusty who wasn’t as surprised quickly sent us back out to the start line. It could be a tricky race because after you had gotten around the choppy windward side of the island and raced across towards Sandy Spit, you had to navigate back under the lee side between anchored yachts and find your way to the finish on the opposite side of the island. 
I had a so so start and immediately had to look at Ricardi and Nat Ford up ahead. I managed to stay close to them until the gusty and fluky leeward side of the island. Nat who was ahead of me went low to try and search for better winds away from the yachts, but I decided to stay as close as possible to the island hoping for some of the coast bending effects of the winds there. I managed to find some lucky gusts and all of a sudden appeared out from underneath the island way ahead. Funny how luck can be some times…...or was it the wind god? One of my Dad’s buddies says to me sometimes “it’s because you are a first born…..luck travels with you”. I dunno about that, but winning that final race meant that I had not only won my division in HIHO but had won the event overall too beating the open division as well. This wasn’t what I had expected to do and not at all what I had set out from Antigua to do. I thought I would be able to do a few races and would treat this trip as more of an adventure with my close friends than as a competitive windsurfing regatta. It ended up being both. Being able to race without major knee pain and still be competitive was a blessing and I felt more than just luck. 
I felt overwhelmed…….. Lucky and blessed! 
Life is short and sometimes you have to take chances and risks. The knee pain which came a week later and I am feeling now……is and was worth it. I am sure Mr. Justin Cobb may not be happy next time he sees my knee but he’ll understand.
We quickly hustled over to Salt Island to get rigged and ready for the 27 mile long race down the Sir Francis Drake Channel towards the West End of Tortola. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to make it using my one big sail and decided to borrow one of Ricardi’s smaller ones. I also knew that those long reaches across the channel would kill my knee so I changed my fin size too to make it easier. With the smaller gear I wouldn’t be as fast over short bursts but would be comfortable enough to keep up for this long distance type of race. After the start I could immediately see how much slower I would be especially in the lighter winds near Salt Island.
As we got out into the middle of the channel the winds picked up and my speed followed. Some of the guys ahead were getting tired and I started passing them. At the first gybe mark I rounded third behind Ricardi and Nat Ford. For the next 20 miles the three of us battled and battled exchanging positions countless times. Whenever the winds got lighter they both raced ahead of me but as they picked up I comfortably passed them. We were never that far from each other and it was pure excitement. With about eight miles to go the course changed in a way that it was a downwind shot to the finish. Each windsurfer had to make critical tactical decisions on what route to take in order to get there fastest. I knew that the currents, wind speeds and wind shifts were in my favour closer in and decided to make short runs gibing and gibing close to the coast. I would keep looking back to see where the gusts of wind would be and gybe accordingly to stay in the good winds. Ricardi decided to make one long run out into the channel and got a terrible wind shift which put him far behind Nat and I. Nat kept following me trying to cover me. I managed to out point him a few times as we neared the coast and started edging away as we got further down the coast. The finish at Little Thatch Island was in the lee of Sopers Hole harbour and the winds could be a bit light and gusty in there. I was pretty far ahead by the time I got there and still knew that in the light winds that I expected it would be easy for the two guys behind me to catch me up on their big powerful Open Class equipment. Of course as luck would have it I stopped still as soon as I got to Sopers Hole. IT should be called the Black Hole. I remember getting stuck in there when I was about 12 doing this regatta for the first time. Nat quickly caught me up and passed me with about 1000 feet to go before the finish. Disappointed and exhausted I watched as he approached the beach and finish flags and highland spring tent on the little beach ahead of me.
Man I was tired. I almost didn’t notice him fall just before the beach as a big gust threw him down, and quickly started pumping the sail to get me to the beach. I watched as he pulled his sail from the water and floundered as I hit the beach. With my bad knee numb I ran awkwardly to the finish flag getting there seconds before Nat did. I could hardly speak and after taking a bottle of water I collapsed onto a teak chez lounge under a tree. The island was so beautiful and I almost couldn’t appreciate it with the exhaustion that had taken over all my senses. This was one of the hardest races I can remember and I was spent. Ricardi came in shortly after and according to his GPS watch, we had done 27.3 nautical miles on this long downwind race taking 80 minutes. As we watched all the racers arrive over the next hour the fatigue didn’t seem to wear off. The picturesque setting did become clearer though. Lunch here to me equaled the one from the day before at Necker Island. Like Necker, Little Thatch is a private island and the owner allows the HIHO fleet to come there once a year for lunch. They make lovely custom pizzas in their brick oven and have a massive and varied gourmet salad as well. I never want to leave there, but I had a plan for the afternoon. Mykl and I were going to relax over on Sandy Spit and when we finally dragged ourselves away we were off to the next deserted Island.
A day chilling and playing at Sandy Spit was the rehab I needed after the tough 27 mile race. The rest of the gang sailed across to Great Harbour, Jost Van Dyke on with the HIHO fleet as that night there was a massive dinner at Foxies. We arrived late in the evening and were invited by the Martinique boat for cocktails. They were so hospitable and friendly that we almost missed dinner. Foxies was as packed as usual, but this didn’t stop them from putting on an awesome dinner. The party afterwards with their own band was pretty good too. This photo was taken by Mykle and shows JEan-Marc, Ricardi and me at Foxies.
Tony’s short career as a skipper on our boat has been one filled with a rapid learning curve, and this was the first time that he had done anything quite as challenging. Apart from having his VHF radio on the wrong channel J, he did a fine job. That afternoon we decided to do an island tour together and once we got to the Anegada Reef hotel which was to be the dinner spot later that night, we tried looking for a tour guide. With a total population of 600 it seems as though there were not prepared for the influx of yachts. In the end I rented an old Ford pickup which had two cushioned bench seats in the back. Tony, JD, Ricardi, Jean-Marc, Jean-Michelle, Mykl and I all piled in and off we went. The island’s coastline is beautiful and reminded us of Barbuda and Anguilla which all have similar geographical makeup.
That being said, the most exciting thing we saw was the beach bar on the windward coast.
This didn’t stop the guys in the back from consuming a large quantity of beer and making almost as much noise. IT was fun. Since this was a holiday, I decided once again to get a room and Chad’s brother Jerry Emmanuel fixed me up with a good rate there. The dinner party that night was a blast. Anegada is famous for their lobster and we were shocked to find out from the fishermen there that all our lobster that night had actually been imported from our sister island Barbuda. It seems as though the BVI are forward thinking enough to have a lobster season in an effort to try to save their diminishing stocks. Anyway, that night the Barbudan lobster however rare they may be back home, were delicious. Tony was the main man during the after party sometimes leading a raucous “Congo line” around the sandy dance floor.
we were given a private tour of the island and managed to see the flamingos and Galapagos turtles too. It did feel a bit strange walking through the main house while the Branson family chilled at their private pool. We met a nice young family member in the kitchen who seemed so friendly and hospitable that I just was shocked. We were being given a tour by Charlie who was racing in the HIHO and worked the rest of the time there at Necker. IT didn’t seem to be something that wasn’t done either which was very odd to me. Just having a tour though the Branson home while they were there relaxing wasn’t something I had ever expected to do (or wanted to do for that matter). These people are cool though and welcomed us. Strange but true. In fact by the time we got back to the beach, Richard and his son were out kitesurfing in front of the eco boat. He was pretty good too. It was time for us to move on to the next anchorage down at Trellis Bay on Beef Island.
That night was the famous Pirate Party and everyone was excited. Mykl and I were tired and opted out settling on an exceptional dinner at Eclipse. What a day! Thank Sir Richard!