The British Virgin Islands… “Nature’s Little Secrets” as their license plates declare, provided the backdrop to Memorial Day weekend’s good times. Back in January or February, there was a group of us contacted by B. Knightly about taking advantage of the long weekend by sailing in the Caribbean. Before I had finished reading the email, I had already replied “I’m in.” And so, as time does fly, it was upon us by late May.

Peter J and I hopped an early flight out of Milwaukee on May 26th, and bounced through Atlanta to get to St. Thomas. There are few things like the smack-in-the-face humidity of walking off a flight in the Caribbean, and the low pressure system that had all of the islands baked into a thick cloudy fog made the humidity in the air somewhere in the high 90th percentile. Only one way to beat the heat: a Painkiller… everyone’s favorite dark rum, coconut, and nutmeg concoction. We boarded the ferry to Tortola after filling out our life history on the BVI customs declaration card, and were in Road Town within the hour. Now, the first thing you notice about Road Town, which is the capital of the BVI on the largest island Tortola, is that it is a bit smaller and less built up than Charlotte Amalie on St. Thomas in the USVI. Rustic... good times.

The first night was at Maria’s by the Sea… a convenient walk from the Ferry Dock, and squeezed onto Road Town’s ugly waterfront area next to the BVI government building. The people: incredibly pleasant. The room: air-conditioned… win-win. One other member of the group also showed up a day early and was staying at the Moorings, where the boat was to be chartered from, so Peter J and I hopped a taxi to go around the harbor. The taxi driver happened to be Jack Randolph (per his card), and he happened to be completely blind at night, and it happened to be night. He drove 5 mph, through Road Town, with cars beeping at us and driving around us, for 25 minutes, on what was easily a 5 minute ride. Amazing.

A quick introduction to fellow sailor Dr. Ned, pizza at the Moorings restaurant known as “Charlie’s,” which by 5 different people on the island opened up at five different spans of months or even years ago, and a tour of the docks holding the hundred or so catamarans and single-hulled sailboats. And we were ready to party. “Where’s the party at tonight?” we offered up to Jeffrey, the bartender of choice at Charlie’s. “’ey, da bat cave, mon.” … yes, I love the islands. I’m not going to say anything too exciting happened at the Bat Cave, beyond Dr. Ned getting involved with the private party’s buffet… yeah, don’t touch that… but there was a need to restock the Red Stripe once we left.

Cast off day: 8 crates of boat provisions showed up at our dock on the rainy day that we were to cast off. Dr. Ned, Peter J, and I managed to get all of the goods onto the boat in the hundreds of hideaway compartments, along with filling three or four coolers of beer and ice. Just as we finished the loading of the boat, the remaining 7 guys showed up… and… Boom.

Because of the inclement weather, we left the boat in Road Town harbor and took a taxi to the north side of the island for Bomba’s Full Moon Party; a shack on the north side of the island known for debauchery and good times. It was good times yet fairly tame, as the rain kept many partygoers away. Two highlights came from the evening… the first was when I was standing at the bar and introduced myself to a couple of fellow revelers, and they asked if I was part of “The Ten.” Ahh, here for 12 hours and we already have a nickname… this is working well. The second would be the most insane taxi ride in a 15 passenger van through the hills of Tortola. This guy clearly worked on tips, and possibly had a death wish. Here’s $5, now never pick us up again.

Set the course for Virgin Gorda! We were off the next morning… around noon… most of the other boats had already left; this would become a theme. We headed straight for the south western tip of Virgin Gordo to ‘The Baths’… a rock formation of boulders that extend from the island into the ocean and make for great snorkeling. Done and done… let’s get some drinks. First stop was at the Bitter End Yacht Club on North Sound. Painkillers, a game of pool, some dark & stormy’s… etc. Good times were had. Let’s get some food. We sailed across North Sound to Leverick Bay, and docked up for the evening. “Man, I’m hungry… I could eat a whole pig.” … How convenient… a pig roast. We consumed a massive amount of food that was set out for the proceeding day’s Leverick Bay Poker Run, and then headed over to the bar to watch the Celtics defeat Orlando to get into the NBA Finals. There was much rejoicing. Virgin Gorda… for the win.

The next morning… err… afternoon… err, whatever, daylight. We fired up the boat and headed to the north side of Tortola. Cane Garden Bay was our destination for the BVI Music Festival. We arrived into port in our typical style. 10 dudes, standing on the front of a 50 foot catamaran with beers in hand, and rap music blaring out the back… a good “We’re here!” shout out to the other 50 or so boats already moored and peacefully relaxing. How about the closest mooring to shore? Sure. We headed to land to get some drinks, some food, and recharge… check. Back to the boat for food… check. Back to land for the Music Festival… check. We entered, and who do we see at the first bar in the place? Jeffrey! ‘Ey Mon! ‘Ey Rude Boys! Coronas! ‘ow many, mon?! All of them! … fact: with Iyaz and Nina Sky playing on the stage, and Jeffrey’s bar being the only one with a TV showing the Lakers vs. Phoenix game, we drank the BVI Music Festival out of Coronas.

The next daylight… we left after many of the boats had already made their departure from Cane Garden Bay. We headed northward to a small uninhabited island called Sandy Cay that has some solid snorkeling, and a ridiculous beach. We were all moving fairly slow at this point, but after Marlin (our fearless and infinitely patient Jamaican captain) told us “Don’t kill da beach, rude boys” we got back on the boat and headed for Jost Van Dyke. It didn’t take long to get to White Bay, and get a couple of Painkillers in our hands at the Soggy Dollar Bar. This time, we did kill the beach… and any pain that may have existed. That evening, we went around the point to Great Harbour, anchored, ate, and went to Foxy’s. We had made some friends at the Soggy Dollar, and we had drinks with many of them, but the heat was unbearable that evening, and we played it somewhat low-key. “Somewhat.”

Daylight! The pattern that exists in the previous paragraphs repeats itself again! Late start, snorkeling, beach bar, food, party. We left JVD, and headed south towards the western point of Tortola. We swung into Sopers Hole across from the Tortola West End Ferry stop to stock up on our dwindling goods of hydration and beers. Benny picked up a whole mess of chicken as well, which proved to be an excellent idea by the time the evening came. We continued on our way towards Norman Island, and stopped by The Indians rock formation for some excellent snorkeling. Deep waters, lots of fish, an underwater cave to swim through, and fire coral! Wait… fire coral? Holy crap, why is my arm burning. Oh god, make it stop, make it stop. Oh man, shouldn’t have touched that. “Marlin! What do I do? It’s burning.” … “Poor some rum on it, general.” … MMmmmm, rum. Better now. Or maybe just numbed. Yes, I touched fire coral… and yes… it burns.

Okay, let’s see where we’re at on the daily checklist. Wake up, yes, snorkel, yes, ahhh here were are, drinking time. And, where else but to the (in)famous site of The William Thornton… better known as “Willy T’s”. There, we met the owner of The Quiet Mon pub, which was just written up in June’s Esquire magazine as one of the best bars in America, and we also had a libation or two… or three. We finished the evening on our own boat anchored in ‘The Bight’ nearby Willy T’s. Benny’s spicy chicken was a feast, and there was much rejoicing.

The boat was moving by the time we woke up on Tuesday. We were headed back to Road Town, Tortola and we had a deadline to make. Some of the guys had noon time flights out of the Beef Island Airport, and somehow, someway, they made it there. Nice work gentlemen. Peter J and I returned to Maria’s by the Sea for an extra evening in town. Being on land wasn’t feeling any better than the sea... but some food, some sleep and a ferry ride back to St. Thomas helped us get back to Wisconsin in one piece.

Good times.