Monday 11 Mar, BVI day 7, Anegada: Kitesurfing and injured while at it.
The wind picked up throughout the night and Glen woke up to check if we are still safely away from the seagrass patch. But otherwise a peaceful night.
And we wake up planning an action day. Well, action for Glen. Kitesurfing again off of Anegada Beach Club.
So after he snorkels over the anchor and re-arranges the kedge anchor (this time anchored behind a rock) we pack all the kiting gear into the dinghy and head ashore to make it for the 11am shuttle van. We needn’t have hurried as the van was late, and we make it to Anegada club just before noon. I position myself under the same shady canopy where we stayed two days ago.
Glen feels adventurous today and he wants to self launch the kite. Not sure that is a good idea but he is determined. And it all looks promising till he actually lifts the kite, which violently flies inland dragging Glen into the edge of the bushes of vegetation over the sand dunes. My heart nearly stopped as I watched that happening. At first look I can’t evaluate the damage on his body as he is completely covered in sand. Apparently he picked up the handle the wrong way around and got all confused, as you would if putting your wrong hands on a bicycle handle bar without knowing it.
Furious with himself, Glen sets about to save the kite from within the bushes. Which luckily are neither high nor dense. So we manage to walk through them and disentangle the lines and kite. All the gear is unharmed. Only Glen is a bit rattled with himself.
But would he stop at that? Of course not. He insists on self launching again (“gotta get straight back on the horse” he says) and this time it all goes well. Soon he is in the water looking like he is enjoying himself.
Few other people kiting so I have plenty of entertainment watching them all from beginners to experts. One guy (which I think is the instructor from the kitesurfing school) does some amazing jumps. Very high and he seems to be up in the air for a long time, than landing very slowly, almost like slow motion landing. He makes it look all very easy. And he does all sorts of twists, turns and tricks when he jumps, quite a show.
Glen is working on his jumps too and lands as usual, with a big splash. And I conclude he can’t be too hurt if he’s doing that.
Mid afternoon he is ready to have a break and now that all the sand is washed off his legs I can see the grazes in full splendor. On his left leg, from ankle all the way up to the knee looks really bad, and I’m sure it feels bad. But he plays it brave and says it doesn’t hurt much. And the usual jokes “my body will heal in no time”. Sometimes I wonder if there was ever a week when Glen didn’t injure himself. Cuts, grazes, stabs, treading on sharp objects…he is quite successful in making himself bleed.
We grab some drinks from the nearby beach bar and then head off to the restaurant to get some lunch. It’s quite busy in the restaurant, we wonder how many people are guests of the resort and how many just visiting for the day like us.
While waiting for our food we start chatting to a couple next to us. They are living in Tortola for 30 years, and he is a marine surveyor. We get the full story of Irma and Maria hurricanes, they were inside their home when Irma’s eye went over Tortola and then a week later Maria. 5 days after Irma they still couldn’t leave the house, there was that much debris and broken trees around them. We also have a good chat on marine insurance as he of course deals with all the companies. Apparently the insurance bill for Mooring Charter Yachts alone was $400million. Ooph no wonder our coverage decreased and premium increased after those 2 hurricanes.
After lunch we return to the beach and we briefly fly the drone to record a visual memory of this place. Which Glen rates as the best kiting spot he ever been on.
And then he goes back in the water, with a shy “ouch” when the salt water touches his grazes legs.
Late afternoon the wind picks up and Glen feels his kite overpowered, so he comes ashore and we start packing the gear. Plus, the wind also swung around and Glen is worried about Cloudy Bay, whether the kedge anchor still holds or if she has drifted over the shallow seagrass patch.
So we take the shuttle van back to Lobster Trap where we left the dinghy and return to Cloudy Bay. Happy to see her still floating and not aground. There are lots of boats in the bay now, more than in any of the previous days. When we anchored we were an outlier to the moored boats. Now we are surrounded. Most charter catamarans of course. We warm up with a cup of tea (yes, the wind actually feels chilly once the heat of the sun is gone) and I give Glen a piece of my mind about his injuries. Not that he is too bothered. Hm, “boys will be boys” never implied blood needs to be involved, did it?
In the evening we watch the movie “The fault in their stars” after which we feel blessed to have good health. Glen’s grazed leg is minuscule compared to losing a leg to cancer.
We go to sleep to the gentle hum of the generator on the huge catamaran which anchored very close to us. Glen ponders that they must have to do a 200 hour service on their generator once every 8 days if it’s run 24/7. Couldn’t be doing with that. Once a year with Cloudy’s generator is enough for him!