So it is now February 10 and I am not sure how to catch you up on what we have been up to.  We have remained in the British Virgin Islands as we decided it was too much trouble to deal with immigration to go to the US Virgin Islands.  Funny that…too much trouble…omg wish that were the extent of “trouble”.  My whole universe has shifted.  I was worried about sailing when we started this journey; sailing is the part that offers the least in problems.  The wind blows and we are either sailing upwind or downwind…the winds are never too strong and so you just sail.  When we need to change direction we do so.  I am at the helm and have begun to “feel” it.  The week’s training I did with the ASA (American Sailing Association) was worth every penny of it and all my angst.  Call out to Captain Jen!  Ken manages the “sheets” (aka ropes to control sails) and we manage to communicate well.  Now, I know  that many who read this (Polly, John Mc Cabe etc.) will smile benevolently at the notion of the constancy of trade winds versus what they deal with…yeah well it is all new to me and there are enough issues so that we need a break!

The excitement when sailing is when to tack/jibe (OK….change direction) and we manage that sometimes really smoothly and sometimes with some added excitement but Aurora sails well and Ken smiles and so do I (at least some of the time).  But as for the rest of it….the engine has given Ken a run for his money and me the desire at times to end it all quickly.  I just love it when he decides to turn the engine on and nothing happens….oh that is such a “different” feeling.  Or when for three days he notes that it is overheating (yep, I can hear that high temperature alarm which manages to wail on and pierce any sense of security I might have had).  OK…Ken finally solved the overheating but it took a process of elimination and my sense of well being was worn to a frazzle (similar to the hair style I now sport).  The lack of ignition is maybe solved…oh well! 

So…you know that wonderful smooshy expression: “you are my anchor”….as Valentine’s approaches let me advise you…DO NOT USE THAT EXPRESSION… unless you want to let someone know that you are unsure about the future.  We had anchored a few times and I learned to deal with movement according to wind etc.  There is a certain amount of “swing” that you must become accustomed to.  So we anchored overnight in Cane  Garden Bay on Tortola.  The next day we woke up and were enjoying a pleasant day when there was a complete change of wind and Ken noted that our anchor was no longer holding so determined it was time to bid farewell to Cane Garden Bay.  He was at the helm (steering wheel) and I was on the windlass (one button depressed with foot lowers anchor and the other button raises anchor).  On his call I depress the button to lift the anchor and watch it come up….ah yes…all is good.  But wait…what the hell… you have got to be kidding me…the anchor, which was raising so nicely…one one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand is now zipping downward…forget the one thousand…..Zipping, zipping down….holy cow I didn’t know the chain could fly by at such a rate…I am shouting to Ken (the boat is 51 feet long and so he is quite the distance….I wanted a smaller boat…row boat sounds good) anchor is going down.  Well I wish I could show you his face…yep he is surprised (try shocked, shocked, shocked).  So we have now re-anchored close to the buoys that mark the entrance to the harbor.  Now…it is a wide mouthed harbor with little traffic so about 5 boats enter and pass by with no problem.  There is plenty of room though this would not have been the chosen place to anchor.  Ken is hard at work below trouble shooting.  I am sitting on deck contemplating my future (and my past, which now looks like I never had a difficulty in my life).  A boat approaches and the sailor at the helm seems determined to come as close as possible….I swear you could pass us on either side in the Titanic and stay within the channel.  As he gets close he calls to me in the most proper British accent…. “you know you are anchored in the channel?”.  I want to say “you know that big round wheel in your hands…well it gives you the opportunity to determine your bloody direction and steer clear of us” but I settle on “Yep, I know, but do you think we are here by choice?”  Seemed to satisfy him and he figured out how to use his big bloody steering wheel.  And so once again Ken solves the mystery... the generator has determined that it does not charge the Windlass battery and neither does the engine.  Well isn’t that great!  Apparently the alternator/regulator duo on the engine isn’t doing its job so add that to the list.  So my world has shifted. 

When setting off to sail I rush to take off fenders and dock lines and stow them (and I avoid walking on the closed hatches as I now know that they are not entry points for “down below” and perhaps might not bear my weight….I know what happens when they are open!  I keep a hand for the boat so that when we are in the wake of some powerful power boat I can keep my footing. Today after we sailed I found myself rushing to measure how batteries are charging…I stick my head into tight spaces to determine where that leak is coming from and point it out to my captain who double clamps it. It was a slow leak but we determined that stopping it early might be a good idea.  We anchored for the night…it will be a while before I feel truly anchored to anything. 

As you fall asleep tonight…think of us.  The weather is perfect.  The seas are an incredible turquoise.  We spy turtles on the top of the water.  Flying fish astound us as they pass by in lightening mode.  The pelicans swoop down and catch their dinner as we watch.  Restaurants and bars on white beaches beckon us for cocktails.  It is idyllic….and yet I wonder if I will survive it all.  You, meanwhile, can expect that your bed will be in the same place when you wake up as it was when you fell into a wonderful slumber.   When you open your eyes the world will look the same as when you drifted off.  I, meantime, will wonder what awaits me when I open my eyes and can only hope that the world is somewhat similar to where I left it to grab a couple of hours of shut eye.

I will tell you about heads (toilets) and showers some other time because, frankly, who the hell cares!

As part of the process of purchasing a used boat you get it surveyed.  Qualified people – those who know a lot about boats – and hopefully more than you do, check her out both out of the water and in the water and pronounce her DOA or salvageable.  We got a salvageable, but expensive to fix, rating.  They did know a lot about her but presented themselves to know everything about her.  I was sad when they pronounced her radar system was dead and should be given a proper funeral at sea.  I sucked that up with an OK and heard that faint yet familiar vacuum sound coming from the checking account.  Now, I have scanned the “Manly Man Manual” and I understand that august document which deals with the fact that real men NEVER EVER read instruction manuals, but what the hell… I had some time to kill a few nights ago, (and please do not tell anyone this), I broke out the Garmin Navigation system manual and followed about 10 instructions and the radar system fired up perfectly.  Makes me wonder how clever I was sourcing a new HD radar dome in the USA and “ importing it to the BVI in order to take up valuable space on board, which might be better spent storing a more important commodity like rum, rather than taking 15 minutes to read some instructions.  Hum.

Who is on trial during a “sea trial”?   Is it a traditional trial with judge and jury?  Would Neptune or Poseidon be judge?  Am I worried? You bet.  I started this sea trial thing thinking Aurora was being tested…  I am now of the mind that we all are on trial.  We have grown.  3 weeks ago priorities like getting the toilets and shower sumps sorted out were important.  Those now pale to insignificance compared to things like finding and fixing the sea water leak in the engine and generator battery compartment (I find batteries are much less efficient when operating in a pool of sea water) or getting the main engine to start every time the ignition  key is turned…  every other time is not working well for my first mate, etc.   I’ve given up on trying to get the windlass battery to charge through the monster alternator on the main engine like it is meant to, so a windlass battery trickle charge work around should get the anchor down and up occasionally and on demand  – “should” being the operative word. If not  “if it doesn’t kill you it will make you stronger” - like pulling up 200 feet of 3B anchor chain and a 35 KG anchor by hand, as a much less desirable plan C.  All things considered this 51’ Hylas loves to be sailed – we were doing 9 knots going to weather with just the Genoa head sail up in 15 knots of wind yesterday – screaming into Road Town Tortola – makes it all worthwhile… so far.