Barrie had a cold when we left NS which Carmen picked up right away and I followed suit after we arrived in Tortola. We hacked our way through the first few days (Barrie referred to us all as the Phlem Family). Our breathing was made worse by a severe case of mould and mildew that had collected because Kate’s home had been closed for eight months. Three gallons of bleach later, most of the ceilings, walls, shelves and drawers were good as new again. Looking on the bright side, we won’t have to clean before we paint in the new year.
Mornings are magical here. Dawn comes quickly. At one point (around 6 a.m.) it’s dark and starry; then minutes later it’s light and butterflies are flitting about. At night the same happens in reverse. Dusk lasts about 10 minutes then any remnant of daylight disappears. Much like dimming a switch in slow motion.
Now, a little background about where we are hunkered down for the winter. It’s a country called the British Virgin Islands (BVI), and consists of Tortola, Jost Van Dyke, Anegada, Virgin Gorda and 50 or so smaller islands—some inhabited and some not. Tortola is the largest with a population of approximately 23,000 people. Christopher Columbus named the island Santa Ana. (Lordy, that fellow got around, eh?) When the Dutch settled, they named it Ter Tholen after a small island close to the Netherlands. The British later altered it to Tortola.
The island is only 17 miles long and between 3-4 miles wide. But to get from one end of the island to the other takes over an hour as the island is a series of mini mountains and although there are lots of coastal villages with fairly flat roads, you can rarely get from one to another without first driving around hairpin turns that run feverishly up/down/around peaks and valleys with vertigo inducing elevations.
We took an entire day off from cleaning on Sunday and headed to Brewer’s Bay—and over some scary roads. (I’m sure in a few weeks we’ll be flying around the mountains but right now I’m white knuckling it.) I promised Jane Boursaw photos from Brewers as she and her hubby were here many moons ago. (Aside: I just took an awesome course from Jane titled Blogging for Passion and Profit. My blog’s a result of that course.)
There was only one camper at Brewers (see tent in photo) but the grounds are run down and not cared for as they used to be. It’s a shame as the beach is lovely. We met two friends who were hand-lining Palometa from shore—locally called cobblers—using 8-inch round cylinders of filament, hooks, and Reef Silversides (the equivalent of our minnows but skinnier). With a small stone attached about three feet from the hook, they swung the line around like a lasso, which went an amazing distance from shore.
I also received a cooking lesson: “Filet the fish, foil it then add sliced potatoes, green peppers, onions, garlic, salt and pepper. Then butter it before you grill it,” said Clarence. I could almost taste the dish as he was speaking. “Don’t’ forget the butter,” he emphasized. I’ll bet trying that sometime. First I gotta catch me some fish.
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