Leaving Charlotte Amalie, we headed south
late in the day after our American palates were delighted with feelings of home
brought to us by our Wendy’s burgers.
Daylight was waning so we headed to find a good anchorage for the
night. Tomorrow was Easter Sunday so we
wanted to find a place to enjoy the day that also offered a sheltered and
calm anchorage away from the wind.
We sailed into a number of places but none of
them were what we wanted. The day was
slipping and our light was fading as we pressed on. Our last stop was a place called Christmas
Cove—perhaps a fitting place for Easter. The
anchorage was crowded which didn’t make it ideal but with the sun sinking fast
below the horizon we weren't left with much choice.
We motored to the most western point of the cove and worked to set the
anchor.
When Googled, Christmas Cove on St. Peter
Island looks postcard ready.
Though when
we arrived the postcard had been sprinkled liberally with dozens of boats
crowding the little cove to capacity. We
reluctantly set anchor in the only area left at the most western point right
near the high traffic lanes between islands.
This meant we would be rocking at violent clips during the high traffic
hours. Luckily I had no plans to bake
anything in the oven that evening, having already made a pineapple upside-down
cake earlier that morning. The rocking
would have spilled it into the oven burners and our galley would have wafted
smoke for days.
As it got dark, the traffic came to a halt
and our boat rested in incredibly calm waters, too calm if you ask me. It was the first night I struggled to stay
asleep because there wasn’t a constant gentle rocking-our anchorage had become placid like a house. Despite being fairly calm, Captain Mark was up every few hours
to check that our anchor was still holding us in place. Christmas Cove was swollen with boats and
there was no room for error.
Despite being anchored in what we called a
glorified trailer park, Mark and Connor discovered an abundance of sea life there in Christmas Bay while out checking that the anchor had set. We spotted several huge turtles
swimming around our boat.
The next morning we were delighted that the
Easter Bunny had paid our boat a visit.
Despite the swirl of gusty winds that had kicked up, the E.B. had managed to
hide eggs out on the top deck. Because
the sultry heat here in the islands is not suitable for chocolate filled
plastic eggs these kids lucked out with weighted eggs filled with coins. Mark and I should have joined the hunt to
recoup some of our sailing costs.
Connor scored $24, Sev amassed $11, and Chloe got $10. Ironically, Connor collected the least amount of eggs.
The Easter Bunny also left some cheap little float toys...
Which awkwardly, Connor proceeded to hug and take everywhere with him...
After the hunt we enjoyed pancakes for
breakfast and then pulled up anchor as traffic began to pick up which caused
behemoth rollers to rock our boat wildly.
Pulling up the anchor, we headed to Maho Bay
on St. John in hopes of finding another anchorage that was less crowded and a
better beach. Maho Bay was just the
spot. The Beach, though full of
Cruiseshippers, would be empty by the late afternoon leaving the beach to the
six or so sailboats out on the mooring balls.
Once we tied off to a ball we commenced
Easter Egg Hunt #2, this time below deck…WAY below deck.
At the end of the day the boys all donned
their shirts and ties, Chloe and I put on skirts, and we celebrated the true
meaning of Easter. It was a great way to
rap up the day.
No comments:
Post a Comment