The British Virgins Are Better

5/7/92 Lat. N 18 20.0'  W 64 57.1' St. Thomas, U.S. Virgin Islands

Early the next morning, we hoisted our dingy onto the davits and hauled up the anchor. We had a lovely fast sail to Jost Van Dyke Island, which is part of the British Virgin Islands. The anchorage at Jost Van Dyke was nearly empty when we arrived just before noon. It took several attempts at anchoring before we felt the anchor was truly secure. The test I use to determine this is running the engine in reverse at 1500 RPM until the prop wash reaches the bow. If the anchor doesn't drag then, it’s not likely to drag in a blow.

We went ashore to clear customs and see some of the island. The whole beachfront is given over to restaurants, the most famous of which is “Foxie’s,” so we headed there for lunch and found something a little different from what we were expecting.

Foxie's is a restaurant/bar with a dirt floor, a thatched palm roof, and a few long picnic tables. One section is floored for dancing. Foxy himself sits around playing guitar and singing songs, needling those who enter the place. There were a few people sitting around, drinking beer and eating sandwiches, but all in all it was rather quiet at noon.

There were two thirtish looking men, dressed in shorts, T-shirts and deck shoes, sitting in the bar sipping their beer quietly. A woman, in her late 20’s wearing a bikini, came over to the table.

“Hi there,” she said, sitting down.

“Hi, you want a beer?” One of the men motioned for the waitress.

“Sure,” she said. “You guys chartering?”

“No, we're just cruising around.”

She looked around the place disdainfully and asked, “Is this all there is?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is this all there is to do? Doesn't it get any more exciting and fun than this?”

“Ah . . . no,” replied one of the men, leaning back in his chair. “This is about it.” He took another swig of beer and added, “But it sure beats working!”

We returned to the boat and at about 1500 just in time for the show to begin. The charter boats started to enter the anchorage one after the other, and I watched their anchoring techniques. They would come roaring in, drop the anchor, get into the dinghy and head for shore. Very few of them set their anchors. One came in across the wind and dropped his anchor directly ahead of us. He was amazed to find his boat coming down on ours when it swung to the wind.