No dinghy dock anywhere. Dropped Wayne off and I'm hanging out drifting in the dinghy. Light rain.

Looking for a dinghy dock.

Anchoring here.

Getting comfortable with the auto-helm. Just slightly different from the one on AraVilla.

Forst time at the pilot house wheel.

Motoring over to Hamilton. Inside the reef waves are around three feet. Outside they increase to 10.

"We have lost the coffee maker."

Three motorcyclists who have ridden since they were aingle digit years old talking about … tires.

“Maybe we should change the topic to oil?” I said.

If I go missing, you’ll know why.

Well that was exciting. Overnight, the wind changed direction by 180 degrees and a rain set in. The anchor dislodged and dragged and I happened to be in the cockpit area when I noticed we were awfully close to another boat. I raised the alarm and alerted Mark. There was much urgent activity as we quickly but calmly, in classic Mark fashion, raised the anchor and moved the boat.

I haven’t been feeling so well over the last few days, yet again, so I’m not moving much which I feel a bit guilty about since Mark and Wayne have been bundles of industrious energy cleaning the boat.

”I may not move much, but I do pay attention. I guess we all have our roles to play.”

It's a quiet warm lazy afternoon aboard Tabasco. With the prospect of 7 or more days here things feel slower.

Wayne is above deck hanging out. Mark is in the pilot room and I'm below in the mess. Mark has good music on softly playing throughout the boat.

Back at the boat after lunch with other Mark and his wife at The Wharf.

The weather report has changed. Our weather window did not materialize so it looks like we will be here for at least another week.

K1300S is watching.

We've been back at the boat for a while. We did a little work trying to diagnose intermittent nav lights then sat in the
cockpit area drinking wine and talking as the sun slowly set.

grocery sto

I'd love to soend some more time here to explore. It is wonderfully different here.