Ugh. I mentioned to him the fine print in the school contract where it stated only some would pass the 103 exam. "Isn't it a bit soon for that test?," I asked. "Quit your bitchin!," was his reply. "All three of you are ready for it and we still have a few days to get the 104 stuff out of the way after you guys ace this one."
Cool! It appears the warning "not to expect to come away from this week at sea with a Bareboat Certificate" did not apply to our boatload of goof offs. Capt'n Chris sounded positive we would wobble off the boat with a piece of paper that would enable us to rent quarter to half million dollar yachts from almost anywhere in the world! So what if the insurance cost 30 bucks a day extra. Sure enough, the Capt'n collected the answer sheets, scored them, and told us we had all passed! Two certificates in hand, we were ready for anything the wind could blow our way!
Before hauling in the anchor this time, we consulted the charts to figure out where we were going. Well, actually, Doctor Sam, being the most intelligent of the three of us, reminded Lee and I of yesterday's fiasco.
Palm Island was only seven miles away and we should have been able to see it. But one of the Tobago Cays islands was between our anchorage and our destination. We'd have to plot a course west to sail into the open ocean. westsouthwest to pass between Union Island and Palm Island, and then turn east to our anchorage, which was located on the south side of the island.
The pictures of Palm Island are ones I dragged from the internet - I feared my phone was somewhere at the bottom of the ocean at this point of the journey but luckily it was just at the bottom of the boat. It was located as I was checking the floor of my cabin for my cleanest used underwear a little later during the sail.
Again, it was an easy sail with 18 Kt. winds from the NE. First at our backs, then off our beam and as we assumed our easterly course, we dropped the jib, fired up the engine and motor sailed into the wind until we reached our anchorage for the night. Those east to northeast winds are almost certain to blow every day in this part of the world. It makes for fantastic sailing in the Caribbean and is a constant delight.
It was early and Mr. Fantastic, in his bright red motor launch, zoomed alongside to see if there was anything at all we needed from ashore. You'll find these boat boys in every port with any sort of shore facilities, everywhere in this area. The boats are all brightly colored, all of them have catchy names for themselves, and they even offer freshly caught shellfish and early morning delivery of newly baked bread! They make their living checking with the cruisers in the boats as they arrive, buying and then delivering whatever the yachties need. Of course there is a steep markup involved, but everyone knows about it. The songs some of them sing advertising their specialties are fun to listen to. I found all of them to be reasonable, low key salesmen; much easier to deal with than stateside panhandlers.
Palm Island is a destination resort for people with deep pockets and allows boaters to come ashore only to buy drinks from a dockside bar. No way can the unwashed (literally) masses mingle with their wealthy clients. We kept our distance, yelled and cavorted in the water, used the last of our ice in freshly cleaned glasses filled to the brim with product from a distillery founded in 1703, snorkeled, bathed and went to our berths in a great mood. 
What these stories do for me, Forrest, is they fill me with an adventuresome spirit that I thought was long gone. I will never do what you're doing or see the places you saw. But if you can do this ... then I can drive to Jackson Hole and visit a cousin I haven't seen in half a century. This is your gift. Your story telling ability and writing style, now enhanced with these beautiful pictures, stir up the dreams in others ... who thought the time for dreams was long past. Thank you! And if you come see me in Bandon, I'll give you a hug.
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