We made our landfall at about 18:00 local time, near Bridgetown, in the commercial port. Not designed for small sailing vessels, we carefully positioned Chelone alongside one of the large buffers used for cruise liners, and John and Susie set off for customs. Louise and Ross offloaded our rubbish, including a couple of redundant quilts, and I stayed on the boat. Elated now. Yes.
An hour later, we were attached to a mooring just off the two yacht clubs at the Southern end of Carlisle Bay. A quick dinghy ride. A well deserved shower, some grilled Marlin Rotis, with Searing hot pepper sauce, and the rum punches started flowing...
I was alone with my hangover in the morning. I gave Chelone a brief clean as the others went ashore.
John then took Chelone into the Careenage, and tied up right in the centre of Bridgetown.
It's strange. About 6 days from shore, we'd been talking about what we missed most. For some, it was cold beer. For others, chocolate. We all missed showers. Oddly, I had developed a craving for an ice cold lemon sorbet. Finding one, in Bridgetown, left me smiling, and letting out all sorts of strange, but apreciative noises.
We then went our separate ways. I was concerned about the availability of flights leading up to Christmas and, possibly, the bad weather back in the UK affecting this. When I found out there were only seven seats left on one flight a couple of days later, Louise, Ross and I decided to book immediately, rather than risk waiting any longer. A couple of hours later, it was job done, and Louise and I repaired to 'The Waterfront' for some local seafood, creole style. Louise's Flying fish with plantains and fish broth was particularly good.
The town was buzzing. Like so many we've been through on our travels, everyone was friendly and seemed happy.
A jazz band played in the Waterfront that evening. John, myself, Louise and Susie anjoyed yet more beer and cocktails until some o'clock and fell asleep an a tranquil Chelone a bit later. Relax, now, man.
We'd taken Chelone's sails off the day before. Both had torn, and been repaired, but John wanted a Barbados sailmaker to repair them properly before he and Susie began their cruise proper. Blocked fuel filters had limited the revs on Chelone's engine on the way into Barbados, however, and John set about changing them. When all filters had been changed, and the engine still wouldn't rev above 2000, we were all pretty perplexed. Seeing the boat that had safely carried us across 4300 miles of ocean sitting, tied up against the wall with no sails and a sick engine concerned me greatly. John was convinced he coud sort it, however. Louise and Susie rented a car, and we set off for a drive, stopping off for a swim a couple of times.
Holiday brochure stuff. All we need now is turtles said Louise.
We called in at Oistins fish market. As a lone Egret stalked the offcuts from the day's catch, I wondered which of the five we'd helped he was. 'Would you like to feed the turtles' a voice called from behind.
Louise ran back to the car for her snorkelling mask and we walked out along a jetty - one of the fish merchants carrying a bag of fish scraps. He threw them to Louise, who squealed with excitement as she hand fed up to three large turtles who swam around her.
The day was passing. As sundown approached, three of us turned our thoughts to our 20:10 flight for London Gatwick. John and Susie looked forward to their cruise.
