BVI Charter Sail Trip Part 1: The Conch Penis

conch: 1. A tropical marine mollusk (Strombus and other genera, family Strombidae) with a spiral shell that may bear long projections and have a flared lip. (freedictionary.com)

Basically an edible snail that lives in the sea. All snails are hermaphrodites and the conch is no exception. When the conch is a dude, it shimmies his penis out of his shell, around and into the female conch shell then proceeds to give her his conch juice. Because the penis has to travel a LONG distance, they have HUGE man parts! HUGE! I've seen them before. Sometimes other sea life will feast on the conch penis while he is trying to get lucky but it's no thang cause that sucker can grow back. No joke.

Strange that I know so much about conch (Thanks to a conch tour in Turks and Caicos.) but stranger that I will throw down conch fritters like no one while armed with such info.

Two years ago we chartered a catamaran in the Virgin Islands and it was an AMAZING trip. You can read the super details while I pretend to write for a travel magazine in part 1, part 2, and part 3. This year we went without our kids. Leaving our kids behind was as awesome as it was not. Every couple including us had kids that were left with their Grandma. Before this trip, I couldn't WAIT for a vacation with JUST my husband; we called it our "Finally Honeymoon" but while there without our babies waking us up with cuddles and kisses, it was hard to bear. It wasn't 24 hours before we talked birth stories and vaginal tears with each other so we filled drinks for our empty hands to hold and dared each other to jump naked off the boat daily to keep our minds off the kids we left behind.

"Finally Honeymoon" soon became "Tour de Conch Fritters" because I can't get enough of those hermy sea snails. Now that we are back and I've gone 24 hours without said fritters, I'm getting shaky. Conch is no joke.

I like them mashed to hell, rolled in a bunch of stuff and FRIED. We ate them at every stop. Geoff asked our second to last night if we HAD to have conch fritters, wasn't I tired of them? I refrained from explaining that conch is a natural aphrodisiacs and HE should be the THANKING me but then knew he might expect some place to put his man parts that night... if you know what I mean.

And thanks to those damn conch fritters and countless rum drinks, I gained eight pounds in ten days.

While squeezing my fat A$$ in a thong, SPF 50, a hat and a shirt on almost at all times, I still couldn't escape the intense Caribbean sun and currently look like a New Jersey Shore cast member.

Snooki would be proud.

It's a good thing our boat crew totally rocked and was more than willing to put up with my drunk reenactments of popular Broadway musicals. As my new "J-Friend" would say, "Bless their hearts."

Will post more later this week about the trip and my new favorite place, Cow Wreck Beach. Love you all and I'm happy to be back!!!

Getting my Jib ON!

We are at it again. Just a teaser before we strike it big, buy a boat, homeschool the kids and get a boob job.

Kidding... about the homeschool part.

Okay and the boob job, geeze, way to call me out like that!

Grandma flies in Wednesday and Geoff and I fly out Thursday. Ten days in the Virgin Islands without my babies. It makes me tear up thinking about leaving them but I've got a thong to rock, we're going to look so European.

And check out our sweet ride:


I love you all more than Smores while camping.

See you in the nextish week!

Rum is the Answer! What was the Question? Sailing Trip Part 3

I think sailing has changed our life.

I don't know how many mass emails has been sent from my husband to the family we sailed with regarding SAILING. Every free minute is spent on researching boats, hull length, cruising speed, average weight, numbers of heads versus cabin, and other details I can't remember.

Do you know my husband?

If you know him, I mean, actually KNOW him, what I mean is have you SEEN his eyes well up when he talks about fresh snow fall, the feeling of his skis on the powder, the first day of ski season, if you KNOW my husband, you would know that this is different. It might not be strange, or even weird but sure as Hell, different.



But that was our life B.S. (Before sailing.)

Life A.S. (after sailing) is full of daydreams. What is wrong with dreams? Our life is filled with dream boats, dream life, dream job, many dreams, our life is filled with dreams right now.

The cool thing is, there is a possibility some of those 'dreams' could come true.

Part three of the vacation that may have changed our life:

One of the first conversations I have ever had with Geoff was regarding diving. I love scuba diving. I still would love to be an instructor. Love it. I was working on my dive master last I left Turks and knowing that this really hot guy I met who is really outgoing, super sweet ALSO loves to dive is NOW my husband is pretty sweet. Pretty sweet indeed and we love to dive together. We do.



Day four, we got to dive together.

Can you believe I'm only on day four??? As my friends in the Turk's would say, "To make a long story short, or in Holly's case, to make a short story long." I continue in my Sail trip 2009 series...

The dive: We parked on a buoy not as close as we would have liked. Our equipment rented from a dive shop near where we picked up our boat, and I was exhausted from being up all night with Sawyer from what seemed like a swollen penis turned out to be a bad case of diaper rash. Yes, this was an interesting day already and it was only about 7am. Yeah, 7 AM! After toying around with a bad O-ring, snorkeling to the site battling a strong current, we descended to the wreck.

The history via Wikapedia (long but interesting):

The RMS Rhone was a royal mail steam packet ship that transported cargo between England, Central and South America, and the Caribbean. She was one of the first iron hulled ships, powered by both sail and steam. Built in 1865 at the Millwall Iron Works in Southampton, England, she measured in at 310 feet (94 m) long and had two masts with a 40-foot (12 m) beam. Her propeller was the second bronze propeller ever built, and she was one of two ships deemed unsinkable by the British Royal Navy[citation needed]. Her first voyage was in August 1865 to Brazil, which were the destination of her next five voyages. There, she proved her worth by weathering several severe storms. She was then moved to the west India route. The Rhone was a favorite among passengers due to her then lightning speed of fourteen knots and lavish cabins. She sported 253 first class, 30 second class, and 30 third class cabins. On October 19, 1867, the Rhone pulled up alongside the RMS Conway in Great Harbor, Peter Island to refuel. The original coaling station they needed had been moved from the then Danish island of St. Thomas due to an outbreak of yellow fever.

On the fateful day, the captain of the Rhone, then Robert F. Wooley, was slightly worried by the dropping barometer and darkening clouds, but because it was October and hurricane season was thought to be over, he and the Conway stayed put in Great Harbor. The first half of the storm passed without much event or damage, but the ferocity of the storm worried the captains of the Conway and the Rhone, as their anchors had dragged and they worried that when the storm came back from the other side after the eye of the storm had passed over, they would be driven up on the shore of Peter Island.
They decided to transfer the passengers from the Conway to the "unsinkable" Rhone, and the Conway was then to head for Road Harbour, and the Rhone would make for open sea. As was normal practice at the time, the passengers in the Rhone were tied into their beds to prevent them being injured in the stormy seas.

The Conway got away before the Rhone but was caught by the back end of the storm, and foundered off the south side of Tortola with the loss of all hands. But the Rhone struggled to get free, as its anchor was caught fast. It was ordered to be cut loose, and lies in Great Harbor to this day, with its chain wrapped around the same coral head that trapped it a century and a half ago. By this stage time was critical, and captain Robert F. Wooley decided that it would be best to try to escape to the shelter of open sea by the easiest route, between Black Rock Point of Salt Island and Dead Chest Island. Between those two island lay Blonde Rock, an underwater reef which was normally a safe depth of 25 feet (7.6 m), but during hurricane swells, there was a risk that the Rhone might founder on that. The Captain took a conservative course, giving Blonde Rock (which cannot be seen from the surface) a wide berth.

However, just as the Rhone was passing Black Rock Point, less than 250 yards (230 m) from safety, the second half of the hurricane came around from the south. The winds shifted to the opposite direction and the Rhone was thrown directly into Black Rock Point. It is said that the initial lurch of the crash sent Captain Wooley overboard, never to be seen again. Local legend says that his teaspoon can still be seen lodged into the wreck itself - whether or not is it his, a teaspoon is clearly visible entrenched in the wreck's coral. The ship split in two, cold sea water made contact with the red hot boilers which had been running at full steam, causing them to explode.

The ship sank swiftly, the bow section in eighty feet of water, the stern in thirty. Of the original 146 aboard, plus an unknown number of passengers transferred from the Conway, only 23 people on board (all crew) survived the wreck. The bodies of many of the sailors were buried in a nearby cemetery on Salt Island. Due to her mast sticking out of the water, and her shallow depth, she was deemed a hazard by the Royal Navy in the 1950s and her stern section blown apart. Now, the Rhone is a popular dive site, and the area around her was turned into a national park in 1967.

I've dove over a hundred times which is most likely an understatement and I still kick myself in the butt for not keeping a log book. We were exhausted and this was my first dive back since November. I felt rusty, but man, was this dive tops on my all time list. The boat was huge, and coral grew freely. Since this was not a wall dive, there was no real vertical, but slanted, diagonals, spheres, it was easy to feel off, dizzy, odd. I was checking my depth ever few seconds and STILL this dive rocked. There is no other way to describe it.

We saw the tiles from the old dance floor.

We saw the propeller.

We rubbed the 'luck porthole' three times in a clockwise direction.

This dive was amazing.


After the dive, we freshened up and headed out to Latitude 18. Barefoot Davis, a shaggy white haired white boy was singing, like he always had, every Monday at Latitude 18.

Barefoot Davis married the couple we were with, Dave and Becky and when he fist met them, he mooned them from his boat.

Did I mention he LIVES on his boat?! Sweet!

He noticed Dave and Beck right away, we were serenaded and Becky and I were called onstage to 'help' aka- Dance and pull the winning raffle tickets during his breaks.



Barefoot Davis reminds me of Sunsets, 5pm cocktails, watching the water turn colors, sitting on the dock, listening to live music, enjoying great company and relaxing after a relaxing day of work. Hey, it was the islands, even work was pretty relaxing.

This is why I'm happy we took a sailing trip. THIS is why I'm happy Geoff is looking at life a through different lenses. I'm an island girl who married a mountain man. What to do with life???



Day five: Willie T's.

Willie T's, the floating pirate ship bar.

I heard some crazy things about Willie T's.

I've been quoting Willie T's Ship Articles on my blogs because I think we should all live by them.

One last rule, " The Willie-T shall be respected as a community service, allowing those in need to shed inhibitions. Anyone betraying the confidences of this vessel shall be flogged."

We heard some crazy things about this place and after meeting the bartender who in no doubt is a 'lifer', I see why. Our favorite drink 'Dark and Stormy's' became 'Dark and Hony's' and the blonde blow up doll behind the bar is your first clue, you might not want to bring the grandparents. Little hotties in bikinis, free of boyfriends, dressed in bathing suites I drooled over roamed the boat. We were told if you jump off the boat topless you get a free drink. We jumped off but NOT topless. I can pay for my own drinks.



I was in a drinking mood.

My husband pulled a Geoff.

This was a sailers paradise, the boats were a plenty.

We met the filthy (and proud of it) old man in his thong, perhaps hoping to get some sort of excitement from us, sprucing up his average, money can buy him anything, seriously ANYTHING life.

Must be nice.

Must not be so nice.

I don't want to be so rich, I turn into a sucky person.

Maybe I just want to be a little bit rich.

Anyone want to donate to my cause?



Willie T's was awesome, we headed back to the boat and passed out. We all pulled a Geoff and then woke up with some Rum.

Because, as Barefoot Davis would say, RUM is the answer, what was the question?

Pulling a Geoff: Sailing Trip Part Deux

Before I go on, I must inform you of a term.

PULLING A GEOFF (verb)- when out, having fun, and most likely drinking, you disappear without saying goodnight, goodbye or anything at all and fall asleep in your bed.

(Used in a sentence) When Susie left the living room and was gone for over ten minutes, most of the family understood she was simply pulling a Geoff.

History: My husband falls asleep without a warning, he simply leaves the area without saying a word and can be found later sleeping peacefully in the bed hugging my pillow. The act is now known as 'pulling a Geoff'



Day three I anticipated being pretty hungover, having a raging headache and drinking over a three cups of coffee. To my surprise, I was up early, cooking breakfast for the rest of the hungover crew and enjoying my son's smiles and ocean curiosity. Yes, life was good. I decided to venture out of my comfort zone and use a percolator, really it was our only way to brew coffee and I was going to figure it out, couldn't be that hard could it? Of course the day I venture out in the coffee world is the day it breaks, and no, I didn't break it, I know that is what all of you were thinking! Veggie eggs, and turkey bacon on the stove, Dave and Becky wake to a non-percolating coffee percolator. They check my work and realize, that no, it wasn't my fault, and it was going to be a cowboy coffee kind of a day. Point is, I was up early and not hung over from Foxy's, oh, and that life is STILL really good, even with a broken percolator.

Full of caffein, we sailed to St. John and booyed at Honeymoon Beach. We slathered on sunscreen, blew up the baby floaties, got ready to board the dingy when someone pulled a Geoff. Can you guess who? I don't need to write a thing more about honeymoon beach. Sometimes pictures do a better job.










From Honeymoon Beach, we went into St. John and walked around Cruz bay. St. John is my favorite of the Virgin Islands so far. The small shops, dive bars, outdoor restaurants seem like home. I'm pretty sure I could be happy living here for a long time. Iguanas passed in front of our feet as we browsed the local jewelry, dress and food tents. Geoff got suckered into trying some intense looking hot sauce, and by the size of the sweat drops running down his forehead, I was jumping at the bait to try it as well. In fact, we all tried it. This stuff was so hot, you could lick your finger hours later and still feel the heat on your tongue. We went in half and half for a small bottle being very sure that it would last years and let me just fast forward you a few days... the bottle was 1/4 gone. Yum!

Cruz bay is a magnet. I think this is the one place we went back to several times. We went back and bought bracelets, we went back and drank drinks, bought groceries, had dinner, drank more drinks. I love St. John. The heat however began to take it's toll on us. We could not be out very long before we needed to get in the water. Our boat, though lovely in all it's glory, is not equipped with air conditioning, a decision some of us would regret, and easily forget when back home. The locals said the weather was some of the hottest they have ever felt. This heat was not foreign to me, I have lived this before, but not without air. I always had a cool sanctuary to retreat to. On the boat there was no such thing. The coolest we were going to get was in the water, though cooler than the air, it was not by much and in the night there was nothing you could do. Sleep outside and risk being mosquito meals or inside and sleep in your own sweat. Day however, we were in the water, and it didn't take much walking around for us to get back to the boat and into the water despite all the great things Cruz Bay had to offer.

Later that night we actually attempted to dress up and even do our hair (failure on my part). We had dinner plans (Zozo's), and prom photos on the agenda. The next set of pictures are titled Prom2009...














The view from our table!!!


I know, we make out a lot, get over it! Dinner at Zozo's: the food was amazing, the view to die for and my prom date handsome!!!


Sunday:

Fathers day. I always feel odd on holidays, never know what to do, what present to buy, how to distribute the goods, how EXACTLY to say 'Happy Father's Day' so he knows I'm excited but in a casual sort of way. Yes, I suck at all holidays. I bought a card for Geoff before we left and found a few minutes to write a little love note for him. I also bought one for Dave from all of us so he didn't feel left out . Just like I always do, I did the wrong thing. I gave him DAVE'S card first to sign. He thought it was his, wondered why it wasn't lovey, kissy and asked him to sign it. He looked sad and lost.

"Oh, uhh, crap, and here is YOUR card lover! Happy Father's Day!!"

Did I redeem myself? Suck, totally suck at any and all holidays.




Father's Day was one of my favorite days. We chilled. We hang out in Linster Bay, St. John, snokeled and hiked the ruins.

Just when we were about to hike the ruins, can you guess who pulled a Geoff? The ruins was the home of the owner of the sugar mill on the island. He had an incredible view!!!











From here on out, if you see pictures with everyone in them but Geoff, I don't think I need to inform you where he was at. Yes, sailing is relaxing, almost too sedative, and addictive as my husband, right this very minute is looking online for catamarans for sale and if we get lucky, maybe these posts will come to you from the high seas.

Next Post: Wreck diving, bat spotting, and more rum drinking, mmmm!

"Sipping Foxy's Fire Water" Virgin Islands Sail Trip Part 1

"Though shall eat, drink and be merry, you're a long time dead."- The William Thornton Ships Articles on the floating pirate ship bar.


I have sooo much to say about this trip, it's hard to even start. I think I'm going to split my post up by days, maybe give you some history of the places we were at, what we did at that specific spot, and so on. Warning, the posts might be long!!!

We've been planning this trip for a long time, we saved our money up for this trip, we talked about it, went over grocery lists, itineraries, Hell, we even had a sailing trip practice weekend, testing out which rum drinks we liked best. I guess you can say we weren't just looking forward to this trip, nothing else mattered, we knew after, we would have nothing to live for, okay, maybe that is pushing it, but you get the point. Point is, we were excited.

We went with our family best buds the Hill family. They used to own a boat and sailed the Virgin Islands for six months meaning, they knew all the cool places to go. Can you guess who planned the itinerary? We flew on a red eye Tuesday night and course my son cried the entire flight to Atlanta. I was insanely exhausted during our layover, had a full cup of coffee expecting the same story on flight two. Thankfully, before we even took of, Sawyer and I both were sleeping. I woke up every so often to drool running out of my open mouth. Man, I'm sexy.

Then we land. The trip begins at a hotel on the water.


An hour later in the pool, Corona in hand:

Our new pool friend introducing his nephew: "Hees nhame es Luh-mah"

Us: "uhh, llama? Hi Llama, nice to meet you!"

Him: "No, in English LAMAR, island luhmah"

Still butchering his name, "Ahhh, Lahmaaaa, hey dude!"


This was when I realized how much I miss the islands, the people, the kindness, the love, the welcoming, the music, the drinking, the dancing, the island time, did I mention the drinking? I miss the islands.



The sun beat down and the planes flew over head. We weren't in the best hotel on the island, actually, far from it, but I was in love. The water off of the beach wasn't amazing, slightly murky, a little wavy, but you could still see the ground and our toes from above while swimming. Becky was the first to jump in and waved me over.

"You know what I love?!?!" she yells.

"What?!"

"You know what I LOVE?!?!"

"No, I heard that, but WHAT do you love?" I swim closer.

"That YOU know what this is all about. You KNOW this. You know island, you lived here, well, not here, but you lived on an island, you know the culture. I love that!"

I realized instantly that it didn't matter where we were, where our vacation was located, where we were going, what mode of transportation we were taking. I knew that no matter where we were or how we got there, we were going to have fun. We were with the best people and with THEM we would have fun anywhere. Caribbean, or Death Valley, I would look forward to a vacation anywhere with this family any day.

The next morning we walked around St. Thomas, ate breakfast, visited the local market where the ladies sang out to us, hoping it lured us and other tourists to buy their necklaces, the baby chicks followed their mommy chicken around the streets, the taxi's honked out and everyone tried to sell you anything. We were sweaty and the babies were on our chest sleeping, clearly exhausted from the flights the night before. St. Thomas wasn't my favorite so far, it was busy, it was noisy, but the locals, the islanders, the bartenders, the servers, everyone was amazing. Service was slow, "island time mon" but it was with a smile or a song. We headed back, drank some rum at the bar, packed out bags and left for the ferry.



Each hour passed was an hour closer to being in the boat and we couldn't wait. Every so often Geoff would look over at me and whisper, "Almost there."

The ferry took us from St. Thomas to Tortola where we would do the grocery shopping, pick up our boat and meet up with the sitter.

This is where things get fuzzy.

I admit, we had some rum...and took a lot of pictures.








The next morning we were off. The girls inside working on breakfast and the boys working on the sails, I didn't get to enjoy the fist push off as much as I would have liked, hey, we're moms with mouths to feed, but soon after we were outside, wind in face, experiencing the sail being hoisted up for the first time on our vacation, the first day out on our sail boat, the fist day out on Annies Toy. Was this real? Were we really on our vacation???





The moment we anchored, it was on. We motored to sandy cay, swam in the warm, crystal clear waters I was so used to, and remember so well, Sawyer couldn't of been happier. Swim lessons really paid off. He hated the sand but loved the water, every ounce of it. He kicked and laughed, he swam to me and swam to daddy. Besides the water, I was already in love with the various islands we passed. The Virgin Islands had mountains, trees, lots and lots of green, stark contrast from the island I've lived on.



We were back in the boat exhausted, made dinner and headed to Jost Van Dyke to anchor and check out Foxy's. We heard a lot about this crazy place Foxy's, and their so called 'Fire Water'.

Any Country fans out there?

Kenny Chesney:

Oh I wish I was there tonight on Jost Van Dyke
Sipping on some Foxy's Firewater rum
Or kickin' back with Ivan
With all my friends down in the islands
Wouldn't take much for me to up and run
To another life somewhere in the sun

Here's a toast to you on the coast and the sailors out at sea
Drink your ales, hoist your sails
Ride the winds and think of me.

I'm not the biggest country fan, but listening to Kenny while sailing the Virgin Islands is almost required. Inspiration is all over the islands in so many forms, it's no wonder this guy made millions singing this very place we were sailing.



Geoff and I were pretty exhausted that night and he wasn't feeling well, so we laid pretty low, but dang, this place was cool. We ordered Dark and Stormies all around.

Dark and Stormis::

Dark rum as in BLACK rum
Ginger beer.
Stir and enjoy.


And danced. Oh, the music, I love island music, jamaican music, it hits home to me. It so often reminds me of my very few days working as a bartender on Turks and Caicos. Flex, one of the locals who worked there with me and his friend would close with me each night. They would turn up the music and do these dances. Each move had a name. Thunder cat, shark attack, scooby doo and so on, one would call out these moves and the other would dance. They were so good at dancing and each night they designated a specific time to teach the white girl (me) lessons. Flex would demonstrate the moves in slow motion, watch me imitate, then tweak an arm out of place or a foot that wouldn't obey until I was Thunder Clapping with the best of them. I miss those days, I miss my friends, I miss the islands, and here I was at Foxy's, THE very place to relive the old days, but instead we laid low, we sat back and enjoyed the scenery, the people. Man, was there good people watching.

There were the group of five or six girls, no older than 18 with a dad (or porn boss) of some sorts. All the girls were in bikini's and belly dancer jingly things on their butts. Instantly the mom in me thought, NEVER we would allow our young daughter to go to some island with her friends for a vacation. NEVER will our daughter be caught wearing jingly doodas on her butt dancing around. NEVER! These girls danced in full makeup and perfect hair, which I don't know HOW they did it. Did I mention how HOT and HUMID it was? Did you notice in about EVERY picture I'm wearing a HAT?! These girls danced, this 'dad' took pictures while other male tourists rubbed their junk all up and down over them. Like I said, NEVER will our daughter be one of them.

There was the islander who danced with poled like the pole was a girl. He talked to her, woo'ed her, sang to her, danced to her, rubbed up on her, and would take one break per song to hold a beer in his mouth without hands and arch backwards, hands in air until the top of his head touched the ground right next to his heels. Really, it was amazing and really, it was odd.

There was the super tall girl, dancing with the super short guy, every so often hoisting up her skirt until it was panty/eye level.

I'm kind of bummed we were so tired that night, even the other day I thought, can we have a Foxy's re-do?

I think we will have that chance, the opportunity next year for a Foxy's re-do if you know what I mean....

Best Vacation EVER

We are home, got back at about 1 am actually and we are doing all the things people do when they get back from vacation. Laundry. Lots of laundry.

The trip was the most amazing thing I have experienced to date. My skier mountain-man husband might have turned into a sailer beach bum with a sexy tan and scratchy chin scruff. I have so much to say and so many pictures to post, obviously today will not be that day. I'm back, it feels good and it feels sad. It's funny, I still feel like I'm rocking!

Here is the first and only picture I have downloaded so far:

Isn't she a beauty so far? Wait until you see the rest of her!


We all decided that after a trip like this detox was in order, two weeks of healthy eating and no drinking of the adult beverages.

Detox is going great so far though it's only been half a day. I say 'great' because Geoff says mimosas don't count.

So there.

I'm excited to get posting soon, until then, I've got to put the darks into the washer.

Miss and love you all,

Me.