CHECK OUT, CHECK IN

We officially checked out of the British Virgins.  Sev got his first official stamp in his passport when we arrived by air.  We checked out by sea at Sopher's Hole and the total fee for the five of us leaving came to...wait for it...

seventy-five cents!

Cheapest thing we've done so far.

Next we sailed over to Cruz Bay on the American side and checked in.  The line was epically long and we learned that checking in to the US in the afternoon is not a good idea.  At that time, great party cruise boats motor in and belch out swarms of pasty white vacationers who must also check in.  The line was really long, in the heat.  

After finally getting clearance to come back in to the US we took the dingy back to Orion and sailed out of the busy bay.  After just a week, we feel foreign around hoards of people and being on land.

As I write this (yes, from a dockside bar with internet) Sev is sitting in the dingy lashed to the bar dock.  I'm afraid he's been at sea so long, without so much as a hint of sea sickness, that land has become a disturbing place for his stomach to be.  This is common among sailors, they call it sea legs.  Often when you get on shore where terra firma is, and basically, terra doesn't feel so firma anymore, your brain plays tricks on you.  You feel like the earth is swaying like the boat and usually you begin to rock back and forth as if you've been hitting the rum.  Sev began to feel a little green so he climbed back into the swaying dingy for some needed relief.

SEA LEG SEV

As we sailed out of Cruz Bay, fresh from the air conditioning inside the US Customs office we were happily headed to a nearby anchorage.  The boys seemed happy to choose a mooring ball next to a neighboring catamaran featuring a bikini clad young girl about there age.  It seems you can take the boys to sea, but the sea won't take the boy from the kid.