Villainy on the high seas

Sunrise over the Aida

48 hours without Internet - sorry for the hiatus, but nothing we could do. Warning! There are images of drinking and of elderly people leaping around like lambkins in a high-speed racing yacht in this article. 

We made the mistake of going into the Glass House last night for a glass before dinner. A mistake? Well, because we are so well known there, (can’t think why) all the staff want to talk to us: How was your day? What did you do? Are you going out tomorrow? And of course, we respond with: Did you manage to get some shore leave? How was it? Are you getting off in St Maarten? By the time you’ve done this with half a dozen of the lovely team there, your drink has become warm and you’re thinking you better get to dinner before it congeals! It’s lovely to have that level of attention and they are so friendly that you don’t want to stop that chat happening - it becomes part of the evening’s socialising. 

We then went down to dinner and, d’you know what, we had another really quite good dinner - maybe someone in the kitchens is reading our blog?

And now, I can’t believe it’s 1 March! Gabrielle pinch-punched me in the middle of the night - thanks, Gabs - and that always heralds the beginning of yet another month and, in this case, the final lap of our adventure. 

The sun rose over the Aida Luna as we docked in St Maarten. Little did we know that we would soon be closer to it than we expected. It’s been shadowing us throughout our trip, as have several other vessels at different stages. As we were to disembark early for our trip, we had breakfast in our cabin and watched the activity down below. With three ships in port - the other being the Grandeur of the Seas - we probably doubled the population of St Maarten. 

We had much discussion about whether to take our bags containing such essentials as sun hat, water, debit and credit cards, money, little jumper in case it gets cool, unsorted set of cables that I’ve never removed from the pockets and sun cream. At first, because we were getting on a racing yacht with little room, the view was, travel light. Then we reflected that we’d need our stuff after the race had finished. So, common sense won out and we took pretty much everything - and even used some of it!

This trip on an Americas Cup yacht was only to last two and a half hours so it was likely to be over before it began so we headed down to the disembarkation point as soon as we were given permission. This was a little later than usual as the Captain reported that they were having some difficulties with the gangplanks because of a heavy swell. The ship opposite afforded some lee from the swell, but even so there seemed to be an issue and shore staff were scurrying around, erecting barriers, particularly where our lines came down to the anchor points. Apparently, the ship had already snapped some lines at the bow end and the wind kept changing direction. However, the Captain came on again and granted shore leave for guests and crew, but warned us to keep away from where the ends of the lines were tethering us. 

We were queuing for our trip on the quayside when Michelle hurried up to our group and shuffled us along the jetty, further away from the ship. She was evidently anxious and told us that they were worried about lines snapping and the whiplash effect if one did let go.

The line on the right snapped after this pic was taken

It was just as well, because one line snapped directly after I took the photo above and we saw it happen. At that point there then was a lot of activity and the gangplanks were removed as the Captain prepared to move the vessel, possibly off shore and use tenders, or to another berth. Four people had not arrived for our group so we left without them. There must have been a lot of people who were affected because the manoeuvre took around an hour and half to relocate the ship to the next berth but one, facing the opposite way. In the end this move exposed the Grandeur of the Seas to the heavy swell and they were not impressed. We later learned that the German ship had had even worse issues and were severely delayed getting people off.

Given that our ship was swaying in dock from a sharp breeze on the port bow, it was likely to be a speedy ride on the Americas Cup yacht. 

The floating dock and its oversized captain

So we headed to another quayside and boarded a floating dock, captained by a very large man who assigned us our roles on the two yachts. 

Our amazing team of oldies and wobblies

The opposition - boo, hiss!

We were divided into two teams and I was made Captain - hahahaha! Oh, sorry. Even I thought that was hilarious: deaf, daft, wobbly on his pins and not a clue about sailing. Yep, he sounds like the man we need! Doomed from the start.

Our yacht, the Canada II

The two teams of seven were offloaded onto their respective yachts. 

Our Captain, with Gabrielle checking all is well

Gabrielle was on the same one with me - need my minder with me, especially when I have important duties - and we were the Canada II team. 

Gabrielle on the winches

I was on main grinders and Gabrielle was on the winches (I thought he said she was witch!). 

The competition, heading past the docked ships

We were racing an Americas Cup yacht around the bay in Philipsburg - and do you know what? We would have won, thanks to the steady hands of the three main crew who taught us, watched us, warned us and chivvied us. 

Nick on the grinders

It was flipping hard work on the shoulders to crank the pulleys around but our crew of three plus seven old-ish timers were a pretty unbeatable force, particularly when the other crew we were racing against cheated. Oh yes, they carved us up, which was not illegal but with guests on board it wasn’t sporting - not the done thing - and our “real” captain was pretty furious with the other team. So the race was awarded to them but we held the moral high ground as their manoeuvre was dangerous. 

Being carved up by the opposition

It was a circular course including a reasonable amount of tacking. 

The Captain

With a fair breeze and clear skies we skimmed around the course, orders being barked out by the Captain and crew as we swung the mainsail across or let out the foresail. My God, it was brilliant!

Afterwards, we had our rum punch on the quayside, served by a lady with the most amazing long, decorated nails and then we set off to stroll the waterfront. It’s a lovely environment full of shops and restaurants with a liberal smattering of bars. 

Our beer reward

After a coffee in one and then a beer in another we decided on an early lunch as breakfast had been very early: Caesar Salad with prawns for Gabrielle and a luscious juicy burger for me. With of course another beer. 

The lovely seafront at St Maarten

After this, we headed off in the opposite direction in order to check out the rest of the waterfront. 

An ice cream in the heat

We walked along to the end of the promenade to see the magnificent Still Alive catamaran and then got an ice cream, served by yet another elaborately-nailed lady. Everyone asks for tips either up front or on your bill here. It comes on top of service charge too! It’s bizarre but it’s fine. 

We headed back to Aurora in the afternoon heat. And, was it hot! How were we to get back to the boat in the heat of the day? It was quite a step away now and, of course was on a different berth. When we finally arrived, sweaty and bedraggled, we were reluctant to get back on board as the next six days are at sea. However, we were so tired that the cool of the cabin, a shower and a beery snooze beckoned.

As I write this now, with the Aida on the opposite berth, the two ships are rising and falling gently in the swell - a seemingly minor movement that has caused all the vessels in port such problems all day. Guests arriving back at the Aida are being greeted with trays of drinks - harrumph. Their passengers have had significant difficulty disembarking so I guess the crew are trying to make amends for something over which they had no control. It’s been a very exciting day all in all. Now we have the prospect of six days at sea before landfall at Ponta Delgado. 

Just to finish off with an amusing incident: Gabrielle decided that her nail varnish needed to come off this evening. She has her kit with her, but quite early on in the voyage she ran out of foil for the removal process. At a similar moment, I purchased three giant bars of Toblerone. Guess what? The foil from the Toblerone bars was repurposed to remove nail varnish. It has a lovely chocolatey hint!