Saturday morning we motored around the east tip of Jost Van Dyke to one of my favorite anchorages in the whole group, a corner tucked into the armpit of Little Jost Van Dyke that we called Cistern Point. Little Jost Van Dyke, which today has no permanent community, was the childhood home of John Lettsome, a man, who after education in medicine in England in ???? went on to found the Royal Medical Society and later the Royal Humane Society. There's a verse Captain Rob used to share with all our guests on the Aquanaut ships that I carried on with my charter guests. It goes like this:
I John Lettsome
Blisters, bleeds and sweats 'em.
If then they please to die
I John lets 'em.
The anchorage is special because its corner looks east across jewel-like Sandy Spit island about a quarter mile away to the mountains of Tortola further across the straight. Sandy Spit, it's reef and neighboring Green Cay all act to protect the anchorage from any seas or swell, while allowing the very steady breeze to flow across flows freely. Particularly in the mornings, when the early sun glitters on the water, it is an exceptionally a beautiful view.
Sandy Spit itself is a great play spot. You’ve seen it in dozens of TV and print ads, a tiny islet with a topknot of greenery in the center and a lovely apron of white sand beach. There is decent snorkeling, plus, in the old days, one of the most rewardingly of my regular scuba dives on the wilder North Atlantic side of the islands is right through the cut. Then, on days when a North swell is running, the anchorage is in easy reach of the once secret, now notorious, Bubbly Pool. (Since the Atlantic side was calm and the relatively small local tide at its lowest point, we deemed a visit there not worth the hike! Sigh.)
By Facebook and radio, we’d been in touch with old Pacific crossing “class”-mates Gord and Ginny Kerr of the 37 Beneteau Ascension, who currently are captain and chef of a 57' luxury Lagoon charter catamaran named Copper Penny. By great good luck, they were off charter and free to sail over for a get together. We expected them to arrive after lunch.
So, after loading up the dinghy and locking up the boat, we all four puttered over to Sandy Spit for a snorkel. I'd forgotten it never was the best midday snorkel—the fish here hide during broad day and come out in late afternoon -- but I was pleased to see the reef itself looked little changed, a broad jumble of hard and soft corals with white sand at the base.
But what is hard to beat about Sandy Spit is the sense of blinding white sand against azure blue that a stroll on this strand delivers. It puts you right in the middle of those vacation advertisements!
It was, however, Saturday, and the shallows were packed with fun-loving young people, off packed bareboats or day tripping over in Nauti-Nymph runabouts from St. Thomas, drinking, splashing, throwing frisbees and general having a rowdy good time.
We old folks went home for a nap.
Copper Penny pulled in about 2pm and anchored right behind us. It was their first time coming to this spot, my gift to them! Gord whizzed over in their tender to collect Don, Bette and me leaving Tom to continue snoozing. Copper Penny is QUITE the charter yacht (see www.sailcopperpenny.com). At 57 feet long and 32' in beam, she is a lot bigger than Quantum Leap, which we are accustomed to thinking of as an aircraft carrier. Somehow Copper Penny's proportions don't make her look so huge from outside. It's when you pull up alongside and you realize the deck is at head level, you realize just how big she is!
Beautifully appointed inside with four staterooms, an expansive, very modern salon, and really comfortable aft lounging area, Copper Penny is also loaded with state-of-the-art gizmos, such that Gord can virtually control the whole boat from an iPad. They even have underwater cameras to capture uw fish life, like the school of tarpon that later came to play in the boat’s underwater blue lights when Gord demo’ed the system for us later.
Atop all this is one of the nicest bridge decks I’ve seen on any boat. One of the big negatives about most catamarans is the way the inside salon/galley area that bridges the two hulls blocks the aft cockpit lounge area from breeze and forward view. On Copper Penny, there is a nice aft lounge area, but there is also a big bridge deck, a full level above, with a wrap-around upholstered settee in back of the control pod under a canvas bimini in a design that affords a full 360* view. And because of the broad base of Copper Penny’s two hulls (she is 30’ wide) there is surprisingly little sense of motion even that high. Ergo, perfect for leisurely sundowners in such a gorgeous spot. We sat up there for several hours gazing down on Quantum Leap.
Tom dinghied over a little later, and when dusk settled we all went below for an hour, before Tom and Bette went back to Quantum Leap, probably a little tired of stories of people they didn't know, even though they were set in places they did! (Tom and Bette crossed the Pacific a feet years after we all did. Gord and Ginny pushed on at the usual pace, and we only got to know Tom and Bette because we dawdled our way across allowing us to meet five different crossing "classes!)
Don and I, however, stayed reminiscing about all our shared Mexican and South Pacific adventures and friends until nearly 11:00 -- way past cruiser midnight.
Picayune details? All will come to matter
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