Part 4: back to our beloved islands!

The satellite phone battery had quit days before. I had told the folks tracking us that this would happen soon and, as a fallback, promised to make contact somehow at intervals of no more than 48hrs. Now that we were back near PR and other US territories this was fairly easy (I took a gps reading after each tack and sent a text, to be actually sent when signal allowed) and, at a minute after midnight, April 6th, I sent out this text:
"Midnight. 17.861096,-65.518710. Rising moon ahead, cup of coffee in one hand, big bowl of oatmeal w honey on my lap, everyone else asleep....very nice."

The GPS coordinates showed us a bit south of Vieques, part of Puerto Rico and a member of the Spanish Virgin Islands. I could see the glow of PR to port, the glow of Vieques ahead, and a tiny glow from St Croix or a cruise ship off to starboard... and started to feel crowded... but also had that friendly feeling of "home", that we were entering my backyard, the places I've had so much fun exploring and living.

Sailing along in the darkness for a few hours before the moon rose, I realized that this might be my final night of sailing... so I didn't wake up anyone to take their shift, just remained awake, soaking in the soft wind, the sparking phosphorescence (ok, ok: "bioluminescence"), and the brilliant stars until "rosy fingered dawn" brought Larry, bearlike, from his hibernation in search of coffee

and we enjoyed the dawn together...

before I went to sleep.

Larry and I were eager to be back in St John.... at least before my flight out on the 12th... but there was really nothing useful to do on the weekend.... and Bill had a marina picked out on St Croix he wanted to visit... and it was only a little out of the way... and the grocery and chandlery and other shopping is far better... so, off to St Croix!

PredictWind had good advice and we had our usual arguments about the best way to make headway, but we were so close to home that very little could go seriously wrong and I chilled, at least a bit. We made the Green Cay Marina by about 4pm Saturday with only a couple minor scrapes, during one of which we met a helpful kayaker, Tom. Once we tied up at the fuel dock,

he came over and chatted further, then offered to drive us all to town and back so we could eat out. I couldn't bear to miss an evening alone on the boat, but Larry and Bill happily took up the offer and, after taking real showers(!), headed out to dinner, returning well after I had gone to sleep.

Tom was staying on his Tayana 37, a beautiful double-ender cutter berthed in the marina. He had not quite gotten comfortable with sailing the area and, when he heard we were sailing the next night to St John, asked if we had room for another. I, not wanting to miss a minute of possible night sailing, had already told the guys they could sleep the night and I'd sail them home (an offer they accepted gladly), so we all welcomed him to the crew and (after we three motored to Gallows Bay in Christiansted and split up for shopping and sightseeing... and photos of a banana blooming in a vacant lot...)

picked him and his bags of goodies up at the nearest dock, raised sails, and set off with the sunset on our port,

the air so clear we could see St John thirty miles ahead.

After dark, Larry and Bill headed their dry and comfortable beds well after dark, leaving Tom and me to our night sail: Tom enjoyed it and Gigi steers herself well even with the wind on her beam, unlike Dorado. Some call these heavy boats "tubs", but they are surely more pleasant to live and relax aboard in rougher conditions... although who can call the three or four foot waves of that night rough? Not any of us!

We arrived at St John well before moonrise, when darkness made obstructions unsafe, even in these familiar waters, so we tacked and headed back toward St Croix for a couple hours, then reversed again in time to slide into Johnson Bay with the help of crescent moon and flashlight, our heads hitting pillows moments after the anchor dropped.

And, in the morning, we motored into Coral Bay, caught my mooring (Dickie the diver had found the severed end of one of my mooring lines and put a dock fender on it as a buoy: thank you, Dickie! We found he also had brought up Larry's mooring.). Home at last.

Boat delivery complete.

DONE with an epic journey and many more firsts and superlatives to add to my list.
>longest water journey
>first time spending a week out of sight of land
>first time in Dominican Republic
>first time in Puerto Rico proper (although I didn't actually step onto land)
>first time using PredictWind
>first time using an auto-helm to steer
>first time using land/sea breeze differential (I love it!)
>Most nights under sail
>first serious cabin fever
>first time I've seen a boat sink
>first time I've been immersed in a foreign culture (other than Canada and Berkely)(Just kidding!!)

Fun, fun, fun!