A week sailing around Antigua, February 2015


“Merde!” exclaimed Pierre as he slipped effortlessly from Nelson’s Dockyard into dark and fetid waters by the stone quay. As the rain lashed down on this dark and dismal night, I could see nothing but blackness where Pierre had attempted to cross the void and step aboard our chartered yacht, Fil Eau Vent II. I dropped the bags of victuals I myself was carrying and rushed forward to offer assistance. I was dismayed that time seemed to have ground to a halt and that my first attempts at rescue were greeted only by a still and fearful blackness. As I reached towards the waters, I was startled when the first response I detected was the reappearance of four plastic bags full of groceries. Next appeared two hands – still gripping the bags with a fervour well beyond the call of duty. Thankfully, Pierre was unscathed from his total sudden and immersion.

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