We last wrote from Bequia, in St Vincent and the Grenadines. As it turns out, several of our cruising friends were also in Admiralty Bay on Bequia. We chatted briefly with friends who had left Trinidad well before we did and who had been moving northward slowly. We envied their slower pace, but were pained to hear they'd lost their dinghy outboard engine when towing their dinghy between islands. Little did we suspect.

Our visit had to be quick, though, as we needed to be moving ever northward, toward our Christmas rendezvous in Guadeloupe. We left Bequia Saturday for a fairly short hop to Wallilabou Bay on St Vincent. We had some bad luck on the passage, though. Our jib shredded its trailing edge - not the sail cloth itself, but the protective canvas that covers the back foot of so of the jib, protecting it from sunlight and UV radiation when it's rolled up and stowed. The stitching probably gave way, as the thread just isn't as UV-safe as the canvas cover. Oh well, with the wind blowing up in the 30's we'd be just as well off flying our staysail, anyway.

Wallilabou Bay was the locale for all 3 Pirates of the Caribbean movies. The dock and the cranes and the warehouse sets are all still there, though they're starting to fall apart. We were met well outside the bay by a boat boy rowing his open skiff, waiting for customers. The boat boys are a feature of St Vincent; they help folks anchor or pick up moorings, and sell produce, take garbage, etc. The bays on St Vincent are steep-to, meaning the water deepens rapidly off shore, making anchoring difficult. The drill is to back in toward the shore, dropping one's anchor in 70-80 ft, and having one of the boat boys tie a long line from your stern to a tree on shore. Or, if you're picking up a mooring, you snag the mooring and then tie a line from your stern to shore.

We originally picked up a mooring in this manner, but the mooring balls were spaced so closely together that the fellow on the next mooring over was worried that we might hit his boat. The collection of boat boys through otherwise, but they have a vested interest in getting folks moored or anchored and then on to the next customer. We were close, but given the way you're tied off, there's little chance of moving sideways. Still, rather that be rude, we moved, which entailed anchoring. We dropped the anchor and backed up between 2 other boats already at anchor. One of the boats seemed a bit perturbed, but they didn't speak anything but Italian, and nobody could understand them. We finally settled in, but with somewhat unhappy folks next door.

The next morning we learned why they'd been upset. In the process of bringing up their anchor they snagged our anchor line. I had to jump in the dinghy and go help untangle their anchor from our chain. Our chain was draped over their anchor, both ends descending 70-some feet. That's a lot of weight of 3/8" chain, but I managed to get it off their anchor without squishing my fingers.

A bit later we left for St Lucia, the next island north. The St Vincent channel between St Vincent and St Lucia can be tough, and it lived up to that reputation yesterday. We had winds consistently 20-25 knots with frequent gusts to 30, and the seas were running 10 to 12 ft. Oh, and the wind was about 35-40 degrees off our bow, essentially on the nose. Not a fun day of motor-sailing.

We'd been towing the dinghy ever since we'd arrived in Grenada, mostly because our new outboard hoist doesn't work. Nothing wrong with the hoist, it just doesn't lift the engine high enough to get it over the mounting bracket. A matter of measuring about 4 times and still getting it wrong! It misses by about 6 inches, and it's just a pain lifting the 100lb engine up those extra 6 inches.

Midway across the channel I reduced the engine speed, as the wind had (temporarily) moved around to a more favorable direction. Just then our speed dropped from the high 7's to about 4 knots. What now? Didn't reduce speed that much. Tried increasing speed, but no effect. At that point I happened to look behind us and there was our dinghy, upside down, being dragged along. Our outboard was still attached to the transom.

At just that moment we got hit by a squall. I kid you not. Stinging rain and wind blowing 30-35 knots. With an upside-down dinghy behind us. I tried tacking the boat (turning her through the eye of the wind) so we could heave-to (essentially coming to a stop by not completing the tacking maneuver), but the boat wouldn't even come through the wind. I gave it more power (good to have had the engine running!) and powered it around. Now our forward progress was pretty much stopped, I could see about doing something with our upside-down dinghy. Did I mention the 10-12 foot waves? And how hard it is moving around the boat in seas that high? I managed to get my harness tether hooked into one of our backstays, and sat on the swim step, trying to pull the dinghy close enough to the boat. But even with the minimal forward speed we had, it was impossible. Flipping it back upright would have meant going into the water, not something I considered for more than a fleeting moment. In retrospect, we might have been able to hoist the dinghy out of the water using a spare halliard, but by this time the outboard had come off the transom and was connected to the dinghy by its safety cable. Visions of the nearly 200-lb dinghy with a loosely attached 100lb outboard engine, a fuel tank, 20' of 3/8" security chain, and an anchor and more chain all flailing about as we tried to hoist the dinghy aboard a bucking and heaving boat convinced me that discretion was the better part of valor here. I couldn't untie the towing line, so out came the boat knife, and there went the dinghy. I just hope nobody run into the damn thing, as it was floating just barely out of water. I suspect the current took it off toward Central America fairly rapidly, though.

Of course 5 minutes after we cut loose the dinghy we came out of the squall. That meant the wind at least came down to 20-25 knots again, but the seas were still way high. We just both let out a collective sigh and continued on our passage. It took another 3-4 hours to reach Rodney Bay here on a St Lucia. This is probably the best place within 100 miles to buy things like dinghies and outboards, so that's some small consolation. On the other hand, Rodney Bay is the Caribbean terminus for the 2007 ARC, Atlantic Rally for Cruisers, where 250 boats cross the Atlantic in December, leaving from the Canary Islands. The marina here in Rodney bay as 220 slips and every one of them is occupied. There is no comparison to when we were last here in May (I think it was). This place is a zoo!

As it turns out, nobody stocks dinghies here. We're going to have to wait for one to be shipped via container ship from St Maarten here. We haven't got a firm commitment yet, but it appears it should arrive shortly after Christmas. We have located an outboard, though, and if there's any silver lining it's that we'll be able to have the outboard we should have purchased originally, one that's 50% more powerful, and considerably lighter than our lost outboard (the new one is a 2-stroke; the old one was a 4-stroke).

We'd like the local sail loft to repair our jib, but they're seriously booked with all of the ARC participants here. We also have an inoperative water maker, but the local service folks are as badly booked as the sail loft. So, here we sit, anchored just off the marina with nothing much to do for the next week or so. It's a big change, going from a mad dash northwards, to instant full-stop. Theresa will have to change her flight plans and meet us here in St Lucia where we'll spend Christmas. Luckily, there's some exquisite scenery, beaches, and diving here. We should have a nice visit.

You can bet we'll never tow the dinghy again when making a passage. Oh, did I mention our insurance specifically excludes towed dinghies? Ouch.