Tomorrow we go back to Trinidad. We’ll be sailing for two days and a night. The wind is supposed to be on our largely on our tail. Hmm. It’s hard to believe this. Quest hasn’t had the wind on her tail since we left the Cape Verdes over two years ago. Ever since, we’ve been close-hauled, fighting with the wind. So now we’re full of anticipation, waiting to go, to leave Barbados at first light. We’ve packed everything up. Jack’s even got our self-steering hydrovane out. We haven’t had that underpowered piece of metal out of the coat closet for a long time. Whatever happens, the sea will be big. This is because it’s been windy here for almost a week now. It’s been whistling through the anchorage. Once we leave the lee of Barbados which is hardly a protective place, we’ll be back in the Atlantic. I can’t wait to see those trade winds that have travelled for over two thousand miles . Libraries may be nice to hang around but Jack’s right on this. Sailing-wise, we’re rusty. Don’t tell him though. That big-headed son of Apollo. I’ll explain; Percy Jackson’s been rocking our audiobooks recently. Brilliant books, all those Greek Gods representing the different facets of our personalities. Perfect for Lu’s love of Buzzfeed quizzes. And she’s not the only one. I’m guilty too.. daughter of Athena you say? Awesome!

Meanwhile, we pulled in very Quest’s dug-in anchor and came back to the north yesterday to check out at Customs and Immigration. We’d started up here at the Port St. Charles Yacht Club, arriving just over two months ago. Boy, this is a posh place. I’d forgotten how quiet it is. Civilised-feeling. Even the beaches are soft and silky. This place is just about the opposite of where we’d been staying in Carlisle Bay. You can swim right off your boat into coral reef. I’d made breakfast as usual this morning, but then unusually right after I went for a swim. Just under Quest, a school of Caribbean reef squid hung in the water, ruffling their skirts. I exhaled through my mask. This was nice. A little further on, a school of blue chromis fish came through the small, brown coral heads like kids heading down the school hallway. Trumpet fish swam with them. Different species swimming together, I noted. Was it strange that they all hung out together? With all this space on the reef?

Near by, a moving brown plate caught my eye. A turtle was following the fish. I watched it for a while. Turtles live surprisingly boring lives it seems. On a day to day basis, I mean. When they migrate thousands of miles to get back to the beach they were born on, that’s amazing of course. Even when they do that though, it’s a slow but steady journey for them. Right now, this turtle was pootling round the coral heads, carefully inspecting each crack and crevice. Watching it, my mind began to wander. Even though I should have been soaking up every second on our last morning in Barbados. I couldn’t help it. I better get back, I thought. Lucky too, because when I reached the ladder, the Ormerods sighed with relief and hit the toilet. They were gracious enough not to flush on me.