Now that’s what I call Crossing the Atlantic

It wasn’t all scoffing our faces and lounging around in the sun you know.

Included are a few pictures from places we’ve visited so far; Grenada and Carriacou. There’s about three or four hundred more islands to explore just in the Grenadines.

Witnessed a presumably very rich woman in Grenada who, when speaking to the dock workers spoke with a strong Caribbean twang i.e. “Cha mon, we fill di fewel and den we gwan, irie” then her even richer mate came along and she was all like “Dahhlings! Have you met Chris? Eeehbsolute sweetheart, what, we had a spiffing time in the BVIs what.”

People here are funny.

Anyway, on with the pics. I’m off for a swim.

Phil hand crafted this nifty cup holder from a simple chopping board. When in port, it can also be used as a simple chopping board

Wave proof cooking

Flying fish meets a buttery end…

…in a flying fish sandwich

Skipper’s daily breakfast. Personally I favoured a bowl of light muesli.

Another Atlantic Sunset

More Atlantic swimming. Note face betraying fear.

Moody skies

Arrival in the Caribbean was not as idyllic as imagined

However this view of the Twins outside Tyrell Bay was alright

Hillsborough. Our first official port of call on Carriacou. Because we didn’t anchor for two days without checking in, no sir.

Dinghy is now the preferred method for getting to shore. Well, only method.

Bloodshot on anchor in Hillsborough.

St. George’s in Grenada. Here we saw men playing kitchen implements, selling conch shells, and preaching. A lot.

Another sickening turquoise water shot. I’ll warn you now, I’ve got loads more where that came from

Old telephone boxes in St George’s.