tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-107155922024-02-07T22:24:35.481-08:00Jewel of the Sea Sailing AdventuresRuminations from the Wild Blue YonderJuliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-61276295491555737532017-07-01T13:02:00.000-07:002019-02-28T10:47:35.262-08:00Stay Tuned!<h3 style="text-align: center;">
We may be back from the latest adventure, but there are plenty more tales to tell, and more trips ahead. More Jewel of the Sea Sailing Adventures coming very soon!</h3>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-G3GrggESB_0GH1HeycRMIpocoUCnhvdT0MXzQsrF3xIGYnUN_mnEuwAsiRWHPdVow0rjbw8Xc9sMOYFiazAk-SnOq-wcj0m79j7A3ur6wKIQNmDXh2JxzNtOCITU6vGM-X4R_w/s1600/IMG_1479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-G3GrggESB_0GH1HeycRMIpocoUCnhvdT0MXzQsrF3xIGYnUN_mnEuwAsiRWHPdVow0rjbw8Xc9sMOYFiazAk-SnOq-wcj0m79j7A3ur6wKIQNmDXh2JxzNtOCITU6vGM-X4R_w/s320/IMG_1479.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At anchor. West End Tortola</td></tr>
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-6314350653974834192016-12-01T05:44:00.000-08:002017-05-29T06:05:54.285-07:00Home of the Pirates of the Caribbean<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The latest iteration of Disney’s franchise hits American
theaters this week. We experienced many of the sets where it was filmed,
including these moments. (Enjoy "Dead Men Tell No Tales". Sadly, we won't be seeing it, because nothing down here resembles a movie theater):</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyBq_8OunVqE0FVBAcNm4vv8yKDiYuhO1YKLOkwJr-aBToCQmpwPINZ_kTexryw9hJy8QGooFT2x74' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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Watch as we make our way down the river where Witch Tia Dalma resides!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91KlfdQoC5ayEDkkK6kLXfk0imOBYF0rKkZAka5n27irTSHy-5IQoqPKm80MYTHHpthfRWXIt-axDW5aYl-aj33107OgDNv5EgTDN6OnlRzC6RvdOhl_whdJzga55WhejfKyGsA/s1600/IMG_1956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh91KlfdQoC5ayEDkkK6kLXfk0imOBYF0rKkZAka5n27irTSHy-5IQoqPKm80MYTHHpthfRWXIt-axDW5aYl-aj33107OgDNv5EgTDN6OnlRzC6RvdOhl_whdJzga55WhejfKyGsA/s320/IMG_1956.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hampstead Beach where Jack Sparrow narrowly escapes the island cannibals<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97LOLLON_Pg5c6tzb67c5x4q2Sd0eTe7pH2LJcss51X-Erm2Utqzl0ceIHzqbUIAUMcAytOMnKxrPl1BTDYg6LpRHegKXDGkmz18fUEwaCewvDOYB6aXLPfIANGmS4_ROsqp45Q/s1600/IMG_1909revised.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97LOLLON_Pg5c6tzb67c5x4q2Sd0eTe7pH2LJcss51X-Erm2Utqzl0ceIHzqbUIAUMcAytOMnKxrPl1BTDYg6LpRHegKXDGkmz18fUEwaCewvDOYB6aXLPfIANGmS4_ROsqp45Q/s320/IMG_1909revised.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe and I overlook the Twin Peaks where the Black Pearl was stranded<br />
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<h2>
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Julianne 5/28</td></tr>
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-52573427540140615102016-11-24T12:04:00.000-08:002017-05-15T12:05:50.035-07:00The Devils Bridge
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZmkiB5kGuzJ-OHyenZKSvueYVQ2jiJVnUix8nOGIaXdO9Bgc4dahtlgw39NY3DQFf7SjsMOykAvhOzzeyeaL4KOtv9fSrVXxzC5KZcrdhgPBbAdRNHcy9ka7aHFlotLPsnt6Jw/s1600/IMG_1613.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOZmkiB5kGuzJ-OHyenZKSvueYVQ2jiJVnUix8nOGIaXdO9Bgc4dahtlgw39NY3DQFf7SjsMOykAvhOzzeyeaL4KOtv9fSrVXxzC5KZcrdhgPBbAdRNHcy9ka7aHFlotLPsnt6Jw/s320/IMG_1613.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The British like to pretend that slavery is a sordid chapter
in human history whose cross we Americans must alone bear. The truth is they
were complicit in its enterprise. British aristocracy became enamored by the
West Indies. They enlisted and financed <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">ships to come to these islands amongst which
we now sail. Their directive was </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">to
procure the coveted tea and spices that are abundant here. English and American
schoolchildren hear of slave ships bringing the scourge of slavery to the American south, but little about the routes</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
many British </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> ships made before embarking on their transatlantic passage to the Caribbean. These ships
would first head south, where they would capture, enslave and transport, in
horrific conditions, the people of West Africa. These people </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">would be put to work on the sugar plantations
and in the tea and spice fields of places like Antigua, and serve their
indentured lives under feudal lords, many of them Dutch, in plantations such as
Bettys Hope.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4z0Zfj-68pa7tMvw3q7USGjACJXIoUdbVq0A7XdeeCzyUZtY5Vwx8vYZ70HutXy6YnLV0UaiysXESItSAgXWlR8HWwxFEDqcNoqA4ylJYdfNYFVI4hnDoqg8DnqSMOBEDQnJeCw/s1600/IMG_1598.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4z0Zfj-68pa7tMvw3q7USGjACJXIoUdbVq0A7XdeeCzyUZtY5Vwx8vYZ70HutXy6YnLV0UaiysXESItSAgXWlR8HWwxFEDqcNoqA4ylJYdfNYFVI4hnDoqg8DnqSMOBEDQnJeCw/s320/IMG_1598.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">archeological remnants of the slave quarters at Bettys Hope Plantation</td></tr>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">The conditions
were so horrid so that many slaves chose to run away and cast themselves into
the nightmarish, crashing waters off a small outpost on the northeast corner of
Antigua, rather than further endure their plight. This place has come to be
known as the Devil’s Bridge. If you listen closely, the air blown through the
holes in the rocks by the water sounds like screams. It is truly one of the
most haunting, and most reverent, places of our journey.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqB9dzU6EhsW0lQF-r0ZMLrhqzwPOTWwcB9R5xUTF7c-qko0AdhV4yBc4OyDebCEhvOhtRadFi2h-uWVFxp7v7kH7m7U5cAhKPyaA62jHs5zsI7R6rXZJouR2fCkmDosqucHiQQ/s1600/IMG_1605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBqB9dzU6EhsW0lQF-r0ZMLrhqzwPOTWwcB9R5xUTF7c-qko0AdhV4yBc4OyDebCEhvOhtRadFi2h-uWVFxp7v7kH7m7U5cAhKPyaA62jHs5zsI7R6rXZJouR2fCkmDosqucHiQQ/s320/IMG_1605.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>See the torrent that is Devils Bridge: <a href="https://youtu.be/bUExHC9lNq8">https://youtu.be/bUExHC9lNq8</a></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Julianne from Antigua May 2017</o:p></span></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-86954974429108134062016-11-18T17:33:00.000-08:002017-05-03T17:35:38.101-07:00Not Barbados<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNYw45wa7u4_gXH06A0kIn9F_J-eVIU9u-WT2skZhTlc9rp85X6EFk14ybZ7iYxL0pn_ElzlXPOdmawWKkeyk2_b_5d25Bkp3tGAtJGI7P2-g9a0PlCCT5S5zixmMK0HnI2mv1Q/s1600/IMG_2200.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGNYw45wa7u4_gXH06A0kIn9F_J-eVIU9u-WT2skZhTlc9rp85X6EFk14ybZ7iYxL0pn_ElzlXPOdmawWKkeyk2_b_5d25Bkp3tGAtJGI7P2-g9a0PlCCT5S5zixmMK0HnI2mv1Q/s320/IMG_2200.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Barbuda. Not Barbados</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Barbados is a beautiful island in the Windwards that many winter
weary sun cravers love to visit. The latest island in our travels is often
mistaken for Barbados, but unlike Barbados, the tiny island of Barbuda is
rarely visited by outsiders. Barbuda is in the Leewards, hundreds of miles
north of Barbados, and is not a vacation spot for several reasons. It is completely inaccessible except by boats with very shallow drafts
(bottoms), and most sailors (ourselves clearly not included) with shallow drafts would be foolish to venture this far
into the remote part of the Caribbean Sea. No cruise boats will ever make it here. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">It is also not on most travel itineraries because there is virtually no
infrastructure here. Minimal power. No hotels. A couple thousand residents and
a couple of makeshift lean-to’s where food might available…if you are here on
the right day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoetkklPfnTEnmKIzLs9y9wJXQtjNwbSIZsagzGa_FyT8h59zHf46yOf7g9ScPdT-SNU0nb59RPAmiM6hgx77UMcX_G852g7bR5kKu8M8IURjKLwkcaZFtG8zQxcmtq8Htxbh6uQ/s1600/IMG_2202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoetkklPfnTEnmKIzLs9y9wJXQtjNwbSIZsagzGa_FyT8h59zHf46yOf7g9ScPdT-SNU0nb59RPAmiM6hgx77UMcX_G852g7bR5kKu8M8IURjKLwkcaZFtG8zQxcmtq8Htxbh6uQ/s320/IMG_2202.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">But if you want to see a Caribbean island that has not yet
suffered the blight of mankind, Barbuda is the place for you. With no lack of
effort we got here, found an anchorage where we prayed the boat would hold, and
were taken on a “tour” by Claude. Claude was </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">a somewhat droll and unenthusiastic host, but
was nonetheless fascinated that we had made the effort to visit his
outpost. We pressed him to show us around his atoll, and he reluctantly accommodated.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCSMNM6UTgAK1-F3cxfCONynbDfSLBNV954btnwPD4EZN8bVceTRvPBIO0hzxDeA5BNgCXZXjAb3UDq7XLmHAqHb9UMmDdL-zAbQ6Vw1nRVfAi5XqwaItuaUKn7httizkFakKgA/s1600/IMG_2209+enhanced.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCSMNM6UTgAK1-F3cxfCONynbDfSLBNV954btnwPD4EZN8bVceTRvPBIO0hzxDeA5BNgCXZXjAb3UDq7XLmHAqHb9UMmDdL-zAbQ6Vw1nRVfAi5XqwaItuaUKn7httizkFakKgA/s320/IMG_2209+enhanced.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Claude and the intrepid crew</td></tr>
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</span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Basically, Barbuda is a gigantic pink sand
beach. The waters around it are rough but absolutely pristine. Lobsters are
everywhere, and there are almost no restrictions on taking them.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0Rg9bstkbCfvq9yGHidgJSJ2WJuVkOkR1XwOKo3_A2uJDAGC1Gr8rs9fQFwk_NsS05lKBdNjthk5cbOQj396UuvDFTHqlUCTmfJ5v1nA0yTwxQ8TIySRHNF_Eb7YtttZYA8oNg/s1600/IMG_2191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG0Rg9bstkbCfvq9yGHidgJSJ2WJuVkOkR1XwOKo3_A2uJDAGC1Gr8rs9fQFwk_NsS05lKBdNjthk5cbOQj396UuvDFTHqlUCTmfJ5v1nA0yTwxQ8TIySRHNF_Eb7YtttZYA8oNg/s320/IMG_2191.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gigantic Lobsters...$10 apiece!</td></tr>
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So other than
a visit to their national treasure, a protected giant frigate sanctuary, we
spent the day consuming giant lobster and drinking Carib, the local brew. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqAsjn2AaXnS6locuuLhUK0vJ2YYwhh75Uane7C5f9KMvaTbtfR5-BAm61tr0aNX2l_NrYxG084KOeX379oxJuJ4L0JG6gFbX5qRi31w2XH8x945e782joOvNAu83XY-rGkWqPyQ/s1600/IMG_2179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqAsjn2AaXnS6locuuLhUK0vJ2YYwhh75Uane7C5f9KMvaTbtfR5-BAm61tr0aNX2l_NrYxG084KOeX379oxJuJ4L0JG6gFbX5qRi31w2XH8x945e782joOvNAu83XY-rGkWqPyQ/s320/IMG_2179.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Frigate Birds on Barbuda have wingspans of 4 feet</td></tr>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We
stayed up all night, fearing the anchor would pull and strand us here like
Gilligan and his cohorts. It held and we hightailed it back to Antiqua, proud </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">for having been among the few sailors to have </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">checked Barbuda off the bucket list.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ4EMP8flrJrsFEh0Y6FzH5MWFUadtF2d2I_Tqh3qhWWb0Qr3n-MWp9YxalQF7yv4C2a6In4eS0_Sg8OgSbgVz_dJX38kA23l8YgcsnVUzvuTF_n-FrMOnFJmue1mA1AwwvjNgvw/s1600/IMG_2198.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ4EMP8flrJrsFEh0Y6FzH5MWFUadtF2d2I_Tqh3qhWWb0Qr3n-MWp9YxalQF7yv4C2a6In4eS0_Sg8OgSbgVz_dJX38kA23l8YgcsnVUzvuTF_n-FrMOnFJmue1mA1AwwvjNgvw/s320/IMG_2198.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
Julianne April 20th, 2017<br />
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-19035904606112616762016-11-15T12:06:00.000-08:002017-04-13T06:39:15.163-07:00Paradise Apocalypse<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have regaled you with story after story about paradise and
what it looks like. Today I give you a small taste of the apocalypse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Joe P. was born and raised on Montserrat, a small island
about 40 miles southwest of Antigua. We had heard he gives tours of his island,
and about his special ability to share its history. We knew we had to sail
there, we knew we had to track down Joe, we knew we had to hear what
happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> In the two minute video below, I give you a first hand account of apocalypse in paradise...</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">.</span><br />
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/KrsK39ukOAo/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/KrsK39ukOAo?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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The effort to dig through the pyroclastic flow </div>
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Thanks to Joe for showing us the resilience </div>
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of the people of Montsterrat</div>
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Julianne April 10th, 2017</h3>
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-71397755072388035972016-11-12T18:37:00.000-08:002017-05-29T07:54:49.746-07:00Sacre Bleu<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWwQ0LYcc0VzzDXkv6stFeBV3KyeN8zctyk3AZv_8o12n0EGOe64aB4B_mMLctlo13yNU0R0wMzzkdxEhz6gH44VWkX1WpjC_-RyCFyDezISKBW26bSDbVh5SRCuObi388UNEwhA/s1600/IMG_2042.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWwQ0LYcc0VzzDXkv6stFeBV3KyeN8zctyk3AZv_8o12n0EGOe64aB4B_mMLctlo13yNU0R0wMzzkdxEhz6gH44VWkX1WpjC_-RyCFyDezISKBW26bSDbVh5SRCuObi388UNEwhA/s320/IMG_2042.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What if you could sail up to the shore of Nice, but nicer? We
accidentally encountered a tiny archipelago of islands south of Guadelope that
are firmly and fastly French, and phenomenally out of sync with the third world
island genre. The Isle de Saintes aspire to be anything but third world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Sailing north from Dominica in light winds, we pulled in to the islands hoping to nurse a gaping hole in our jib. Using rusty high school French and ample sign language, we found a sailmaker-- Phillipe-- who graciously put us back in business within a day.</span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyOazay9Sl1LDNoeSYEcF15oqwVg88Z6oGaPE4aq6_AOI6Vmer2SNobq4rYogUiCkyNr-FgqO4lg-V8ekJ6hvBVCr3lWPyYAE6nDmVV13bY5PKMWlcE4VXxGRgw6ZR0fFfA4Wew/s1600/IMG_1871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyOazay9Sl1LDNoeSYEcF15oqwVg88Z6oGaPE4aq6_AOI6Vmer2SNobq4rYogUiCkyNr-FgqO4lg-V8ekJ6hvBVCr3lWPyYAE6nDmVV13bY5PKMWlcE4VXxGRgw6ZR0fFfA4Wew/s320/IMG_1871.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phillipe spoke no English but saved our butts</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This tiny series of 4 islands has upon its main isle the
small town of Bourges de Sainte. The narrow streets are filled in the morning
with vendors sitting on chairs dispensing hot, freshly baked croissants and
baguettes from a bag in their lap. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjy_reAlWikInnqn-TGThYMFNDcsjt6x1u60N8N3q50AXg3BcAEU4dGRWdg2F0xlaN4Pq3NZLmT3JZR1Ro4wbgvMuTpefwuo8UFGLi_G8s3IapVUQDj2fhnnpyiFSino3PQdZtg/s1600/IMG_1864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcjy_reAlWikInnqn-TGThYMFNDcsjt6x1u60N8N3q50AXg3BcAEU4dGRWdg2F0xlaN4Pq3NZLmT3JZR1Ro4wbgvMuTpefwuo8UFGLi_G8s3IapVUQDj2fhnnpyiFSino3PQdZtg/s200/IMG_1864.JPG" width="200" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Every other store front is a small
restaurant trying to outdo its adjacent neighbor in culinary artistry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX-PLtLg67wKACRMPpOSrJ0s7wtpuLs4VFVUnw2IL5_DP7AJ1NuyNYB5po578hPjLOlRSm7UpUfXjDl-MFIR2cXONg_XULhoedOC5NZN3s8PXKyEgoiljTLzndA6pS88HIyFtevA/s1600/IMG_1866.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX-PLtLg67wKACRMPpOSrJ0s7wtpuLs4VFVUnw2IL5_DP7AJ1NuyNYB5po578hPjLOlRSm7UpUfXjDl-MFIR2cXONg_XULhoedOC5NZN3s8PXKyEgoiljTLzndA6pS88HIyFtevA/s200/IMG_1866.JPG" width="133" /></a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcuuQUhk4udJV_X6Qm0-92JyKqH2P7eGRPikUViKcDpd0zHSGmP2azlk1hdtkFna2a3gW47r8AZBZqYlCIg2Vluugt7Q35y0FcyDCompwpTRwSrcGM7y6GWRgZhJgUzu6EOcVTQ/s1600/IMG_1867.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGcuuQUhk4udJV_X6Qm0-92JyKqH2P7eGRPikUViKcDpd0zHSGmP2azlk1hdtkFna2a3gW47r8AZBZqYlCIg2Vluugt7Q35y0FcyDCompwpTRwSrcGM7y6GWRgZhJgUzu6EOcVTQ/s200/IMG_1867.JPG" width="133" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">When you are not partaking in the cuisine, you are hiking
1000 feet to the top of Chemeaux</span><span style="font-size: large;">, the highest peak on the largest island, Terre de Haute. There the French erected a lookout, which would have served them
no purpose other than to predict their doom, as it is too high for cannons to
mount a useful defense. Fortunately for them, the islands were strategically
useless to the naval powers of the time, so they, the Brits and the Spaniards, just sailed on by, and left
the Saintians to fait le pain and boissez le café au lait.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8djzDb5_O9JOqR7eg8CPEAsJcgyT_bgEBcAFtIpq5kYM6KlDzUf4Q8u35yHgtKrL3ZNkwGIE5tCqJb_b6QyJSg_v_kifdwuty3O6BKwGHs_MS1SfhRevEsesYEOEnVrFgRmpDw/s1600/IMG_2049.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8djzDb5_O9JOqR7eg8CPEAsJcgyT_bgEBcAFtIpq5kYM6KlDzUf4Q8u35yHgtKrL3ZNkwGIE5tCqJb_b6QyJSg_v_kifdwuty3O6BKwGHs_MS1SfhRevEsesYEOEnVrFgRmpDw/s320/IMG_2049.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">the fortress atop Chemeaux</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We stayed three days. Gained a pound a day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">julianne 3/25/17</span></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-89143955819445346092016-11-10T15:41:00.000-08:002017-03-20T15:44:57.022-07:00Black Gold<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqtB7VpaFuZlleEEHZGdkCC59KOtWOYu-zRo_eUcSJKHIRn08UmOIF0MTiqgKUOBZae7MewnhbkkyAtbxs9dXNiCtxOeeIg5cmf8bBe1-MkK5rOqiCKQHnfBVPudoUbEFHJ8znw/s1600/IMG_2014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqtB7VpaFuZlleEEHZGdkCC59KOtWOYu-zRo_eUcSJKHIRn08UmOIF0MTiqgKUOBZae7MewnhbkkyAtbxs9dXNiCtxOeeIg5cmf8bBe1-MkK5rOqiCKQHnfBVPudoUbEFHJ8znw/s320/IMG_2014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: large;">I cannot help
myself. I have to keep expounding on the magic that is Dominica, so here I go
again. Today, I am talking about its geology.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dominica, though
approximately the size of Martha’s Vineyard,<span style="color: #545454; font-family: "arial";"> </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #545454; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> has </span><span lang="EN" style="color: #545454; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> nine main volcanic areas, the highest
concentration of “live” volcanoes in the world. It also has 26 mountain tops,
one of which climbs to over 5000 feet, and each of which is covered with dense
rainforest. The Dominicans are highly protective of their ecostructure and have
successfully fought against any large scale development intrusion. There are no
Hyatts, Marriots, Omnis or any other big box hotels, and any building at all is
highly regulated.</span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlN1LMVwEI5fYwhzQHWX3iu_2Cypr0dT6fHasKO6ObGobpTFj8mXbTyP0q7JB9mCjiHmK9XefnwqJGEF4jDw9tuNkuyZ2ZUPsSA_Yo72BS8ohU4Y_hYZkDBYfxnluMTFPgyUIqA/s1600/IMG_1998.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlN1LMVwEI5fYwhzQHWX3iu_2Cypr0dT6fHasKO6ObGobpTFj8mXbTyP0q7JB9mCjiHmK9XefnwqJGEF4jDw9tuNkuyZ2ZUPsSA_Yo72BS8ohU4Y_hYZkDBYfxnluMTFPgyUIqA/s320/IMG_1998.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: large;">Because it is so
highly volcanic, it is the youngest island in the Lesser Antilles. One of the
great tourist things to do is to visit one of the thermal spas, small
operations cut into the forests by individuals who have owned that spot for
generations, and bath in their beautiful hot springs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">The island itself is </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">still being formed by </span><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-size: large;">geothermal <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;">activity,
and has earth’s second-largest </span><span style="color: black; mso-themecolor: text1;"><span style="font-size: large;">hot
spring, Boiling Lake</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVOGdzPBa5Fftdka88GIiM_eR_Ky6N1XeQ5pF8yzbpc_jstFEOBejr-W79pwaxgVGCpqt-zMuLZjoO8lPpXOygTMXZc1LEy7CGrwJH55zNd839EUr7ZsetHi3-cvSUvUGRdpc7bw/s1600/GOPR1641.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVOGdzPBa5Fftdka88GIiM_eR_Ky6N1XeQ5pF8yzbpc_jstFEOBejr-W79pwaxgVGCpqt-zMuLZjoO8lPpXOygTMXZc1LEy7CGrwJH55zNd839EUr7ZsetHi3-cvSUvUGRdpc7bw/s320/GOPR1641.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: large;">Most fascinating
to me is the sand. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPLvXVWJTNGl43RLDLW_gtONfBF0jJu8paaBZE9PfSkR8EMhWQLcbn760xamQQHa2PkFYNRdb46ui6VguFXQbAy_VesiDrn6P2V_ydwaENdnHB3yvHycl4WQSp5kBLR6pdaLaGuw/s1600/IMG_1952.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPLvXVWJTNGl43RLDLW_gtONfBF0jJu8paaBZE9PfSkR8EMhWQLcbn760xamQQHa2PkFYNRdb46ui6VguFXQbAy_VesiDrn6P2V_ydwaENdnHB3yvHycl4WQSp5kBLR6pdaLaGuw/s320/IMG_1952.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: large;">
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is black volcanic pulverized pumice, as fine as baby
powder and specked with flecks of gold. I exfoliated with it, washing it off in
the beautiful turquoise waters abutting the beach, and my skin felt as if had
regenerated. We could not help but to scoop up a bagful, one of the few ‘souvenirs’
we have ever removed from our island hosts. I will be returning it to the
states, and those of you who are worthy shall share in a sample of this
remarkable natural beauty product. Add a couple drops of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Dominican coconut oil, and I challenge you to
find </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">better skin care in even the finest
resort spas.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"></span><o:p></o:p><br />
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Julianne March 18th, 2017</div>
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-54948135716191527232016-11-08T18:20:00.000-08:002017-03-06T18:21:36.985-08:00Charlie and the Chocolate Factory<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Dominica offered us so many wonderful experiences. At the top of a mountain near the town of Calabishie, we encountered the Pointe Baptiste Chocolate Estate, courtesy of our guide Charlie. I share with you our experience in the video below.</h3>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/sgYtMzQoZVw/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/sgYtMzQoZVw?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
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Julianne March 1st, 2017Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-1806596685862158892016-11-07T20:13:00.000-08:002017-02-22T20:21:29.871-08:00The Last of the Kalinago
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<span style="font-size: large;">When<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">James Fenimore
Coooper penned “The Last of the Mohicans”, he said this: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">“…</span><span lang="EN" style="color: #222222; font-size: 13pt; line-height: 107%; mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">there was no
recess of the woods so dark, nor any secret place so lovely, that it might
claim exemption from the inroads of those who had pledged their blood…to uphold
the cold and selfish policy of the distant monarchs of Europe..”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While he was writing of the exploit by Europeans of north american Indians,
his words could equally apply to the history of the Kalinago Indians of
Dominica. They are the last surviving descendants of the native peoples that
made their way from South American up the island chain of the Caribbean,
settling in islands as far north as the Bahamas. In our travels throughout the
islands over the years, we heard time and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">time again about these </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">original inhabitants, typically </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">referred to as the Caribs. Until we got
to Dominica, we assumed they were a long</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">extinct sect. We were wrong. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Christopher Columbus and his 17 ships made his 1494 second
voyage to the new world, and he and his crews were the first whites to lay eyes
on Dominica. They never touched its soil due to the rocky bottom of the
shoreline. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Later Spanish expeditions
did, however, and immediately laid waste to the population they encountered.
Those they did not kill with flu and small pox, they killed for their refusal
to allow exploitation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">These "Caribs" were in fact the Kalinago, and they did not go easily into the night. They were
warfaring and territorial and while some assimilated, most
refused and rebelled violently. Spain </span><span style="font-size: large;">decided that obliteration was appropriate.
They </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">massacred hundreds on a site whose
town is to this day known as Massacre. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8FLhupitruf0k6gnHKlNJa7xddgdVxP5NXvkU7PJYuakaEm-iiTtrssSkOh3XKS7yESGjrSg-Z_Xlg91b_nb3eUIRWkTuHEEF-C580DVlITaY8gasfV4DAmf8CXkPn-jXy_t6zg/s1600/IMG_2007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8FLhupitruf0k6gnHKlNJa7xddgdVxP5NXvkU7PJYuakaEm-iiTtrssSkOh3XKS7yESGjrSg-Z_Xlg91b_nb3eUIRWkTuHEEF-C580DVlITaY8gasfV4DAmf8CXkPn-jXy_t6zg/s320/IMG_2007.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A mural on a building in the town of Massacre ,depicting the event</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Spanish and later French invaders could
not eliminate the Kalinago, however, because the remaining Kalinago </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">had retreated to the verdant rain forested
mountains where their would-be </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">exploiters dared not venture and where they continued
to perpetuate their unique culture. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinRxnhfKtzonIJx7d6hfRrcMStPmm95ciUpf7AbbIt8Ua5uByO5RDul4PX2ghDQZnVIpJ0WhNGDfEADuI8ta98wjsRSRuds55arYgAIwx34JprCPyxdYVR5IRY2H7asBqMN_GTQ/s1600/IMG_2016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjinRxnhfKtzonIJx7d6hfRrcMStPmm95ciUpf7AbbIt8Ua5uByO5RDul4PX2ghDQZnVIpJ0WhNGDfEADuI8ta98wjsRSRuds55arYgAIwx34JprCPyxdYVR5IRY2H7asBqMN_GTQ/s320/IMG_2016.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Kalinago territory</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finally, in 1904, England, who by then had control of
Dominica, gave to the Kalinago their own territory, consisting of 3700 acres on
the west coast. Today, it is home to the last 3000 of these native peoples, who
continue to foster their heritage, including building boats of remarkable
workmanship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">We had the good fortune of
accompanying our guide, Charlie, into the heartland of the Kalinago, where we
learned of their history and shared a taste of their rich bounty.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HU_hH8K586_aQcxrEZIHv4gmq3nM9slF7DIjae7omGf_F47VM8yrBfKV4EoMstsnT0efXvExJt8qJLu9ujpsZUzFM7V5WeypISOOCa2PeyO62Sthn_lCERdhWiM44sxk1gNdLg/s1600/IMG_1977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HU_hH8K586_aQcxrEZIHv4gmq3nM9slF7DIjae7omGf_F47VM8yrBfKV4EoMstsnT0efXvExJt8qJLu9ujpsZUzFM7V5WeypISOOCa2PeyO62Sthn_lCERdhWiM44sxk1gNdLg/s320/IMG_1977.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Kalinago infuse their rum with...everything around them</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-660248093124372332016-11-05T02:42:00.000-07:002017-02-15T02:43:22.840-08:00Ponce and his Wrong Turn<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKcuekpM4P9OnfFK8ab07yVq9YpM4wYFBfFvDBBEa09rIhrrYdumWMjgL4qAZdsG9YBf43PUvPdX9s-WXuNZYPK4hhS66PDHYcce4zJ5EuRU4aAT0qZovgL98sTXZcsZ6luKu3A/s1600/IMG_1993.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKcuekpM4P9OnfFK8ab07yVq9YpM4wYFBfFvDBBEa09rIhrrYdumWMjgL4qAZdsG9YBf43PUvPdX9s-WXuNZYPK4hhS66PDHYcce4zJ5EuRU4aAT0qZovgL98sTXZcsZ6luKu3A/s320/IMG_1993.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In what has been almost three months in the West Indies, we have
visited 11 diffferent islands</span><a href="file:///C:/Users/Julianne/Desktop/Dominica%20and%20Miss%20x.docx" name="_ftnref1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 107%;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><span style="font-size: large;">.
Each has its particular charms to offer, and there are those to which we will
return and those where once is enough. Of these, though, none has captivated us
in quite the manner as has Dominica. It is green, serene and placid yet filled
with wonders. Volcanic black soil beaches are bountiful,</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">isolated and unsullied, lapped by</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">cerulean waters</span><span style="font-size: large;">. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA4yOCDVeelGyacII1khsyCh3jRMVVzPhfeMSvZRl78iS6sfd4PX8UTcw-08xUj2ZzkPxbmGzsk2I1niB-kOJ9ed2PFqmpl-HpTPwrQd2uXIDwtiwQluXTWveYGpufz5xtRGlTVg/s1600/IMG_2001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA4yOCDVeelGyacII1khsyCh3jRMVVzPhfeMSvZRl78iS6sfd4PX8UTcw-08xUj2ZzkPxbmGzsk2I1niB-kOJ9ed2PFqmpl-HpTPwrQd2uXIDwtiwQluXTWveYGpufz5xtRGlTVg/s320/IMG_2001.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Fresh water is abundant, which is almost miraculous in the Caribbean. </span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP3U0VZb46a_1Tn5LP88tvYyuBGuQng54fIwCSgxG98gohswHwrl-F1c8piILIknL3uzs0qf7R9ljOxiuhVuP-mmwa5oRzTvrWwzuFCzz1RcXnJkUzllI3LLTZ49WUdUSyFkfAUw/s1600/IMG_1964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP3U0VZb46a_1Tn5LP88tvYyuBGuQng54fIwCSgxG98gohswHwrl-F1c8piILIknL3uzs0qf7R9ljOxiuhVuP-mmwa5oRzTvrWwzuFCzz1RcXnJkUzllI3LLTZ49WUdUSyFkfAUw/s320/IMG_1964.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
The air smells of
nutmeg. Blooming Birds of Paradise are everywhere, and the parrot, which</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">appears on the national flag, soars majestically.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">There are no mosquitoes to speak of. The
island is free of predatory animals including snakes. Waterfalls are everywhere, pouring from the mountains, which are almost always mired in rain clouds
while the rest of the island bathes in sun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZ1jR3kXGoIPRZ_vMAFUiqZHm8ym_DO-cyPtScadtwRszQ0Jm7v9qpuD927lUEHxEL2pB_8FHGi6pob0eVI0v208D_aZ_HYGwa8HU2nKdpwZ3dPPF_Eze6Un9blvh_xnXWLseYQ/s1600/IMG_1892.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiZ1jR3kXGoIPRZ_vMAFUiqZHm8ym_DO-cyPtScadtwRszQ0Jm7v9qpuD927lUEHxEL2pB_8FHGi6pob0eVI0v208D_aZ_HYGwa8HU2nKdpwZ3dPPF_Eze6Un9blvh_xnXWLseYQ/s320/IMG_1892.JPG" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> Disney chose this island to film
many </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">of the scenes in the Pirates of the
Caribbean movies, clearly because it offered vistas that even the best CG
artists</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">couldn’t replicate. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfBOUNN-k233jllWJp9jiJdp_2PY6L9yrFs1YeEw8QF3YBC6VOo95jp9ajX3s4_B4A7FEPSHKT88eBSvyGV67XzajVmOXCv2CWkqeZSHd5zZDv6exfKlaHIi8fRbVJFrfAtZDyw/s1600/IMG_1920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfBOUNN-k233jllWJp9jiJdp_2PY6L9yrFs1YeEw8QF3YBC6VOo95jp9ajX3s4_B4A7FEPSHKT88eBSvyGV67XzajVmOXCv2CWkqeZSHd5zZDv6exfKlaHIi8fRbVJFrfAtZDyw/s320/IMG_1920.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look familiar? Watch Pirates of the Caribbean II</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I write this it is mid February. We arrived at the end of
January and each time we think to pull anchor, we awake to the incredible
sights and sounds of this paradise, and ask ourselves, “why?”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Where could we possibly go next that would
present a more glorious setting in which to</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">experience our retirement? Forgive me, then, if many of the posts to
follow are about Dominica.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We hired several<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">locals on the advice of sailors we met along the way. The first of these, Martin, introduced us to some of the treasures that comprise this magical place. </span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw9e0eRuUJSWOqrWUXT1lruokVQZWMtftqy5cz_M-liB__K3qQZmNx3YFReCa-cyjsY2lGyColegNk7zjmOKeUs4kk4gLqjnNM1Ja6aA1sdebiMkg4idNV6duN8tP9Dx85wOEH1w/s1600/IMG_1901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw9e0eRuUJSWOqrWUXT1lruokVQZWMtftqy5cz_M-liB__K3qQZmNx3YFReCa-cyjsY2lGyColegNk7zjmOKeUs4kk4gLqjnNM1Ja6aA1sdebiMkg4idNV6duN8tP9Dx85wOEH1w/s320/IMG_1901.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Martin Carrietere, botanist and guide and now, dear friend</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span>Martin, a native Dominican , obtained a
botany degree in Trinidad and returned to his home to become a guide and share
his knowledge of the miraculous curative bounty that is the flora and fauna on this island.
As he took us on mountain hikes, he would pull plants and describe for us the
manner in which they are used: for healing <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">wounds, stopping fevers, reducing arthritic conditions,
soothing burns, curing migraines and incidentally, providing </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">longevity. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">The longest living human being on record, Dominican Elizabeth
“Ma Pampo” Israel, died at 128. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">During
our stay, we have repeatedly run into people who proudly tell us their age, and
we are aghast at their state of preservation and vitality. The lifespan in
Dominica is in fact, longer than in the United States, and they have more centenarians
than anywhere in the western hemisphere.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> (see: </span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.avirtualdominica.com/project/dominica-centenarians/">http://www.avirtualdominica.com/project/dominica-centenarians/</a>)
It is clear to us that</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Ponce De Leon
landed on the wrong shore. His fountain was here, within these shores. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPlJquzpGuYgIrqKdBiXLN6EMHaC55N54I_uQ0KU0MwHteu69Q8fNdm1yFtw6nHUN1_H1uncuHsITHr7DtoX92SdAfFDegPLKfxFk-mUEOF8SlHOp5lZLZJfsOVZ35Isr7FFC3xA/s1600/IMG_1940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPlJquzpGuYgIrqKdBiXLN6EMHaC55N54I_uQ0KU0MwHteu69Q8fNdm1yFtw6nHUN1_H1uncuHsITHr7DtoX92SdAfFDegPLKfxFk-mUEOF8SlHOp5lZLZJfsOVZ35Isr7FFC3xA/s320/IMG_1940.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Atop Red Rocks (800 feet above the bay below)</td></tr>
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<a href="file:///C:/Users/Julianne/Desktop/Dominica%20and%20Miss%20x.docx" name="_ftn1" style="mso-footnote-id: ftn1;" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="mso-special-character: footnote;"><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 107%;">[1]</span></span><!--[endif]--></span></span></a><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><!--[endif]--><!--[if !supportFootnotes]--><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: x-small;"> St
Thomas, Tortola, Norman Island, Peter Island, Cooper Island, Jost Van Dyke,
Virgin Gorda, Anegada, Marina Cay, Antigua, Dominica<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-46098495486874174982016-11-04T04:13:00.000-07:002017-02-08T11:59:08.072-08:00Eden Redux<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCDlKChhgJyXwn8ZicCz__PTyM3lpWFNJQIcpa4uyY8tZqf_6b0mdIunILII7kP_9sKiI42cTgo8HnnRCbT2LOI3O1230D3xb7-CTE5rTQO4LlycmaluhF2fx2FXpjwrAIeZGUNg/s1600/IMG_2014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCDlKChhgJyXwn8ZicCz__PTyM3lpWFNJQIcpa4uyY8tZqf_6b0mdIunILII7kP_9sKiI42cTgo8HnnRCbT2LOI3O1230D3xb7-CTE5rTQO4LlycmaluhF2fx2FXpjwrAIeZGUNg/s320/IMG_2014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the south end of the Leewards there is an island of such great
wealth, it<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">mesmerizes you </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">to the point of paralysis; it takes hold of you and will not let go. Its wealth </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">is not in gold; it is in green. Dominica (‘dom-en-ICA’)
is known as the nature island. It is said that if Colombus returned today, this
would be the only island he would recognize as it has remained unsullied since he
first pulled into what is now Prince Rupert Bay in 1493, and where we are now anchored. There is nothing to do on this island
but to experience its beauty: endless rainforests, cascading waterfalls, hot
springs, tiny towns tucked into valleys between volcanic peaks, fresh water
rivers running through vistas that take your breath away, gorgeous </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">beaches upon which human feet rarely trod. I have not been to Hawaii, but I imagine this place would give it a good run for its money. Our
sail here was long and the winds cooperated, but after a mishap with a shredded
jib, we were glad to make landfall. Once we realized what we had found, we
knew this is where we will be keeping our anchor planted for a long time. In the posts to
follow, I will share some history and our experiences. For now, I share some </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">of the </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">sights.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Julianne January 30th, 2017</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtX6queNImloHbeQ0wzBlehdGCJDRDft2x6eRbidCi2w2-ottkynYPwgICnZEFStCp20QWeF-_oURZX82j5GZt5Fs4eH-Od7HN2yI5gGnzpv3U7wgU3q0VkURbtxMY64HkuLxAgw/s1600/IMG_1917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtX6queNImloHbeQ0wzBlehdGCJDRDft2x6eRbidCi2w2-ottkynYPwgICnZEFStCp20QWeF-_oURZX82j5GZt5Fs4eH-Od7HN2yI5gGnzpv3U7wgU3q0VkURbtxMY64HkuLxAgw/s320/IMG_1917.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Calibishie coast</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEF4lxH_ohQPYC0n9dslX19Bk7BynsjFA3dG6GtSXSKLUjwOJuFJqkYA1t3bjktIKZqoQpJ0HukbOZ7cifPmTqu_EEJvorPZcxtRi6tKZ65wd1xowdj1JfsYixVqx9SJA0qtOi8Q/s1600/IMG_2023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEF4lxH_ohQPYC0n9dslX19Bk7BynsjFA3dG6GtSXSKLUjwOJuFJqkYA1t3bjktIKZqoQpJ0HukbOZ7cifPmTqu_EEJvorPZcxtRi6tKZ65wd1xowdj1JfsYixVqx9SJA0qtOi8Q/s320/IMG_2023.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The town of Trafalgar </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaWcvXniplKHqyKQcK5m23aGcIbdppwDYwJ8KfhvEHw7rg1T2IbvyH-9ChKtlHi8ziJJLgxRsEvcaaQon-98iREHCcFovJt29WsEqfWghiC_wZdof-b0x-1O8N4MvOIH4jE10ByQ/s1600/IMG_1893.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaWcvXniplKHqyKQcK5m23aGcIbdppwDYwJ8KfhvEHw7rg1T2IbvyH-9ChKtlHi8ziJJLgxRsEvcaaQon-98iREHCcFovJt29WsEqfWghiC_wZdof-b0x-1O8N4MvOIH4jE10ByQ/s320/IMG_1893.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joe at Milton falls in Syndicate Park</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90TN-DMF0XK8DgpsX_PmBJ7F4_oRjAZCoSH8wnOD5lb85QQ5G7n_RiCB6gPWIFi6Sk9RrtWquVV8aoHEiPqL6CGaxd_EsVXE33zAZ9XPfpX3OYFX2FEfveIsbaUM2ExJcm__zRg/s1600/IMG_1935.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg90TN-DMF0XK8DgpsX_PmBJ7F4_oRjAZCoSH8wnOD5lb85QQ5G7n_RiCB6gPWIFi6Sk9RrtWquVV8aoHEiPqL6CGaxd_EsVXE33zAZ9XPfpX3OYFX2FEfveIsbaUM2ExJcm__zRg/s320/IMG_1935.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The formations at Red Rocks<br />
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-56534274973931511162016-11-03T18:31:00.000-07:002017-02-01T18:37:52.064-08:00Photo Ops<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you have not already visited "Journeys Present", you can share some of our moments if you </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://setsailwithme.blogspot.com/p/journeys-present.html" target="_blank">click here</a></span></div>
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<o:p></o:p> </h2>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-78600613876773761852016-11-02T10:06:00.000-07:002017-02-02T06:07:24.140-08:00Island Customs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKbuOWTzgCs2-4T9-YGPLI9D8UQ3rQF_nJwOCZZO2xkQkHIxXbso7vxtWxq5h0zuFz7f5e4ox1yM3LI80eEP_aWEtPzwN9EhQO6SXc5OLH9xYV80FFj9mr3HLhHTLW2Fgw-RPIVQ/s1600/IMG_1667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKbuOWTzgCs2-4T9-YGPLI9D8UQ3rQF_nJwOCZZO2xkQkHIxXbso7vxtWxq5h0zuFz7f5e4ox1yM3LI80eEP_aWEtPzwN9EhQO6SXc5OLH9xYV80FFj9mr3HLhHTLW2Fgw-RPIVQ/s320/IMG_1667.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While the cultures of the various islands we visit are diverse, what seems consistent throughout the Caribbean are their customs.
I am not referring to cultural traditions. I am talking about the
administrative<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">process of ingress or
egress from these nations. You think of the customs process as waiting in line
and approaching an officer in a booth to hand him your passport and to tell him the purpose of your visit. The process of clearing customs
when you are sailing the Caribbean is a vastly different, and </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">remarkably patience-testing experience.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">When you arrive in a Caribbean country by boat,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">you have to go to customs to check in. Let me
offer you some </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">flavor for the process </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">as it exists universally throughout these
islands. First, as you drop anchor, you must raise a yellow flag on your
yardarm. This signifies that your boat is under quarantine: no
member of your crew may leave the boat except the captain. The captain must
take the dinghy to shore and find the customs office. If the captain is lucky,
the office is open. If the captain is luckier still, the customs officer speaks
English. Without exception, however, this officer is cantankerous. He is </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">annoyed that you deign to enter his </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">country, and is </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">quick to inform you that the </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">paperwork evidencing your departure from the previous
country (a country a </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">few miles away
across the sea, but which might as well be on the opposite side of the planet)
is defective.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Eventually, he ushers
you away from the counter instructing you to fill out forms or to complete them</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">on</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">non-user friendly software
glowing from a computer that went out of vogue in the late 1980’s. In Antigua,
the customs officer walks around with a two foot long bamboo stick and if you
are not moving through the application quickly enough for his tastes, he taps
your screen with this stick and admonishes you how to answer the questions. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Assuming his printer works and he can slowly dot
matrix his approval form, he stamps the form with annoyed fanfare and
directs </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">you to Immigration. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv9Ef3KM3doz1U_fuIf6D91d12FP5XcBxW7HabxrIJ_cPD6SqGIbJTaz7zn2UBqktEUOqJcennnWlFd4hcuRiAxa1jOj6NnY-vgE4DMWmGjO20rx9B43f-VhmXzw2LvIxvtLdgEw/s1600/IMG_2075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv9Ef3KM3doz1U_fuIf6D91d12FP5XcBxW7HabxrIJ_cPD6SqGIbJTaz7zn2UBqktEUOqJcennnWlFd4hcuRiAxa1jOj6NnY-vgE4DMWmGjO20rx9B43f-VhmXzw2LvIxvtLdgEw/s320/IMG_2075.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Custom, Immigration and Port Authority are all located in the same little building in Jolly Harbour, Antigua...a rarity in the Caribbean<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you are lucky, Immigration is somewhere in the geographic
vicinity of <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Customs. This is rare. For example, in Union Island in the Grenadines, it
is a mile away down </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">a rugged road. At
Immigration, they look at your passport </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">and</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">interview you about your crew and the contents of your boat. They also
check your indentity against their database; a database </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">on a computer that makes the customs computer
look like HAL 9000.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Assuming you are not
on their list of offenders (anyone you might have pissed off on your last visit is probably related </span><span style="font-size: large;">to the
immigration agent ), you are given clearance…to go to the Port Authority. Again,
an office that may or not be within shouting distance, and may or may not be
open. Here is where you pay for a permit to anchor in their fair waters and
tread upon their sacred ground. Only with this permit </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">in hand may you return to the customs office,
where Mr. Bamboo Stick will now give you and your crew an entrance visa. For an additional
fee of course.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All the while, your crew remains imprisoned on the boat
wondering if and when they will ever see their captain, or touch dirt, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">again. The customs process ends with the
mandatory raising of the flag of the host island on your mainstay, signifying
that from wherever you have come, you are now a conquest of this beautiful </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">island off your bow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTsI-PpShFaaxS9uTHaVLWUeT0ALeWIrWX_-TyBOKjtXYl9BwHysxKcCZ5Nh82VRpWyiMPW_QgzEo-XPD9751ai-zpeU-Gum7StU1V0TpLHNLyBAZL9AWghEX_ptRlnZ9L8e1_w/s1600/IMG_2071.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdTsI-PpShFaaxS9uTHaVLWUeT0ALeWIrWX_-TyBOKjtXYl9BwHysxKcCZ5Nh82VRpWyiMPW_QgzEo-XPD9751ai-zpeU-Gum7StU1V0TpLHNLyBAZL9AWghEX_ptRlnZ9L8e1_w/s320/IMG_2071.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">You are in fact so much a part of this island, you may not now leave the
island until you check out, a process no less entertaining than the arrival routine. In between, you get to play in paradise, so when it comes to customs, you simply learn to stay island calm. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9xRWhuz9QgqJ5VDKxHTbjdQHVtRceTaXHV-0zZzEP6TvPlBIKvdd0d_uEOOuvUwz-C8JNbskR5EKPUyu3iDUJ6FT3xugx8S0Rg-jgvAKGoBVWxWFsajDW4WQb7CPkck0zm1HaA/s1600/IMG_1942.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9xRWhuz9QgqJ5VDKxHTbjdQHVtRceTaXHV-0zZzEP6TvPlBIKvdd0d_uEOOuvUwz-C8JNbskR5EKPUyu3iDUJ6FT3xugx8S0Rg-jgvAKGoBVWxWFsajDW4WQb7CPkck0zm1HaA/s320/IMG_1942.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-16609400162178538582016-11-01T05:36:00.000-07:002017-02-12T09:39:00.896-08:00Coffee with a View<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We ran out of coffee. That is not necessarily a bad thing in the
Caribbean, because opportunity for fresh, indigenous coffee abounds here. On
this occasion, we were anchored in Falmouth Harbour and heard about a coffee
roaster high in the hills that surrounded us. It was Sunday, so the “bus” (
actually a guy with a van who circles the area) was not running. The beanery,
we were told, was at the top of the highest peak we could see. I suggested we
hike it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wVi0Fg5sOT2vaZPH5HzKcrWh_XFT9o_T_W6HuxEpn8s9ALL6AjynemmurY5_ykp2J439YOgNRl56_KEFYAT_Xshba8jsOPfXBLAlrw611h_7oq87uvkE067pIW1UOWrzDiMcgg/s1600/IMG_1702.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8wVi0Fg5sOT2vaZPH5HzKcrWh_XFT9o_T_W6HuxEpn8s9ALL6AjynemmurY5_ykp2J439YOgNRl56_KEFYAT_Xshba8jsOPfXBLAlrw611h_7oq87uvkE067pIW1UOWrzDiMcgg/s320/IMG_1702.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> This <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">sounded like a good idea at
the time, but less so</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">two hours in,
about 700 feet up, the sun </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">high and
scorching, no beanery in sight. No sign of civilization. We were told the beanery roasts
their beans every day, and that we would smell the aroma as we got close. We </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">kept our sweaty noses glued to the air,
sniffing, hoping. .<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDDue27fgKk0oPpyZ3xj3QwbPgkATvexUbZ5iCMCTZKEnDhM8Cy6k6iN4Krva71MV_MwlNF_bdICsU_QxI6JH0ScDKCOUoyxccscG8Y9AEtAFGeP1LnNPOJSi4hOQa5Dg5MSzeA/s1600/IMG_1687.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiDDue27fgKk0oPpyZ3xj3QwbPgkATvexUbZ5iCMCTZKEnDhM8Cy6k6iN4Krva71MV_MwlNF_bdICsU_QxI6JH0ScDKCOUoyxccscG8Y9AEtAFGeP1LnNPOJSi4hOQa5Dg5MSzeA/s320/IMG_1687.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finally, a clearing, and there it was. Except that it was
Sunday. No aroma. No roasting. No coffee. Locked door. I don’t drink it, but
Joe does not do well without his morning joe, so I knew the walk down was to be
cheerless. The consolation:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">the view
from the top. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkLk5IeZgJK7cngSnVXgT1la5Xo5XW-RsZXjolD0uNQ-EoyM3cgI_4uZmbnCC3P6Wbnr7p42Vw0jjCYWSWq9X6ZgQfDVY70t9o3pjfgwKQvneeVRDvsTR_xKndkV6raNLe3Ah1g/s1600/IMG_1697.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmkLk5IeZgJK7cngSnVXgT1la5Xo5XW-RsZXjolD0uNQ-EoyM3cgI_4uZmbnCC3P6Wbnr7p42Vw0jjCYWSWq9X6ZgQfDVY70t9o3pjfgwKQvneeVRDvsTR_xKndkV6raNLe3Ah1g/s320/IMG_1697.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The next day, the bus was running, and back we went. The
beans had been brought in from the plantation that morning and were still
roasting so we waited. As we waited, boat chefs from the monster yachts poured
in to procure their pre-ordered bags of coffee specially roasted to their owner’s
taste. The beanery proprietor <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">gave us a private
tour of the small facility. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Joe’s
patience was </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">rewarded with coffee he </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">has been enjoying for days and will continue
to do so as we head south for several weeks. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qTD0c-8cpGXGDm1P9Sc7ggjjzn9TlD_WCAVqx8nXNyI61QsufpwCD3RidyfE4KtkCSATc2LqW1rlofYmMzt5CYtD3X-3yJ_bCDC63MjO9U3r9q4qWxW61AQ3A3_Lfxksg3bhhw/s1600/IMG_2218.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8qTD0c-8cpGXGDm1P9Sc7ggjjzn9TlD_WCAVqx8nXNyI61QsufpwCD3RidyfE4KtkCSATc2LqW1rlofYmMzt5CYtD3X-3yJ_bCDC63MjO9U3r9q4qWxW61AQ3A3_Lfxksg3bhhw/s320/IMG_2218.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Toasting our persistence</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1uVAr9gUNEY4Tx24p1iLlZBB4KkFxvqLMtF7xWnHQpbyLc_Vu8KgJIBxXmwm6t-x-fmjkWg2DjBgB4mHjaEQVsy50wLQlJH3SJBkg6Tt9FbHmDIZ5Di9I6sSTYfXI-3NtBXC75Q/s1600/IMG_2226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1uVAr9gUNEY4Tx24p1iLlZBB4KkFxvqLMtF7xWnHQpbyLc_Vu8KgJIBxXmwm6t-x-fmjkWg2DjBgB4mHjaEQVsy50wLQlJH3SJBkg6Tt9FbHmDIZ5Di9I6sSTYfXI-3NtBXC75Q/s320/IMG_2226.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beanery, all alone at the top of a mountain<br />
<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Julianne </o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>January 15th, 2017</o:p></span></div>
</div>
</div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-68968201171572947032016-10-31T12:06:00.000-07:002017-02-15T02:44:06.035-08:00Lost at Sea<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;">Gordon Lightfoot sang to us of the doomed Edmund Fitzgerald and George Clooney
helped share the saga of the ill fated Andrea Gail. There are countless stories of
tragedies at sea; sailors lost forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">While we are on the ocean, we take every precaution to assure our safety
in case things go south.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">We have a life
raft below. We have Personal Locator Beacons attached to life vests and</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">an EPIRB ..an Emergency Position Indicator
and Recovery Beacon…on board, all designed to</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">signal our position in case of distress. What we do not have is the
ability to communicate. For all intents and purposes, every time we shove off </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">in the deep Caribbean, we are lost at sea. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;">One of the fascinating things about sailing the Caribbean is that you are
experiencing civilization <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">as it was
years ago, particularly as to the world of communication. Cell phone service is
sporadic at best and virtually unavailable at sea and the places we stop. One’s
phone, that marvel of modern technology, is </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">relegated to the status of a brick. Internet?
Faggetaboutit. If you get it at all, it is in a marina or pay-per-minute </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">internet shop, where the service is </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">uber expensive and uber slow. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3JZZur9Lmm6XG0BsSw8_Oxiwd1OHQzqa3Nn7RokFSaN9NqQtW1dHSJD0THaWlc8FeINMBobyLfyk-1kpGff0RZ3QyhZKX9LuvnF5xXU_wX7eOUwnaQPayWkxjDiaUTWXJC4URA/s1600/IMG_1170.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis3JZZur9Lmm6XG0BsSw8_Oxiwd1OHQzqa3Nn7RokFSaN9NqQtW1dHSJD0THaWlc8FeINMBobyLfyk-1kpGff0RZ3QyhZKX9LuvnF5xXU_wX7eOUwnaQPayWkxjDiaUTWXJC4URA/s320/IMG_1170.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: large;">I am able to
post these entries only when I have the money, time and immense patience.
There</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">is no time for internet browsing
or email perusal when you one is sailing. We are on the move constantly. We have
to pull anchor when the tide is right and before the front moves in or so that
we will get to the next anchorage while the light is still right so that we
can avoid the reefs. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> So forgive
me, all you followers, if you can't reach us </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">and if these posts are infrequent. Know that
we are thinking of you all and that while we may seem lost at sea, we are safe.
It turns out that the</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">world without cell
and internet ain't such a bad thing. Perhaps made easier for us by the context
in which we don't have it. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 16.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3SZxjfN8zwyUJWyAxf9VicrB6_wqSzMpdGl-r1hgENF7rutHyF8NDlcxNmF7nlUwzEbWbsw68U2bJIGpJGHxVsp6Ju3kacrhtPF1ha0_vwKt8KOfkQEeR-SQdq4DiKITBzZhgeA/s1600/IMG_1069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3SZxjfN8zwyUJWyAxf9VicrB6_wqSzMpdGl-r1hgENF7rutHyF8NDlcxNmF7nlUwzEbWbsw68U2bJIGpJGHxVsp6Ju3kacrhtPF1ha0_vwKt8KOfkQEeR-SQdq4DiKITBzZhgeA/s320/IMG_1069.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-27922086251202149422016-10-30T18:13:00.000-07:002017-01-12T18:16:11.606-08:00The Admiral and the Barkeep<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ5VPjch8gJQWiWXU3980JVeCPNfAF9IyLg5Jj_8jUu5LczYMPNgrhsepxMmg0fVu8hbMkNfjOKUXVyLp2lSh7LRzwpiMiCzIu4Qm9hEyrV4UR2FKWJmXx0ZKEf2UgDZmUhtd1A/s1600/IMG_1578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGZ5VPjch8gJQWiWXU3980JVeCPNfAF9IyLg5Jj_8jUu5LczYMPNgrhsepxMmg0fVu8hbMkNfjOKUXVyLp2lSh7LRzwpiMiCzIu4Qm9hEyrV4UR2FKWJmXx0ZKEf2UgDZmUhtd1A/s320/IMG_1578.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Nelson’s Dockyard is the historical enclave <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">that was the home of Admiral Horatio Nelson’s
royal navy in the 1700’s. The Antiguan government has gone to great lengths to
repurpose the buildings for modern use, while preserving their heritage and
history.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">The admiral himself occupied a
building that is now an upscale hotel known as the Admiral’s Inn, and after a
hot day exploring the island we sauntered in to its cherry-wood beamed tavern for a
late afternoon beverage. It was here that my perception of the cocktail was
forever altered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am not much of an imbiber, but as an aspiring chef<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">I appreciate culinary artistry in any form,
and in this case the artistry graced </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">mixology. As I sat at the bar awaiting
attention from the bartender, I noticed him creating some of the most meticulously
attended and beautifully crafted cocktails I had ever seen.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbsyUL2JeF0kHz1BA_YHz6WZl42W-9shOJqhiuHmUbFJFW2a3ly5TMMMskEqZDxUmB8isXFa8fPUzbw-YGuA__wgaUprvcKPAgekElg_toQmNCWfu-bBGUI6P0TYM69xZkxSqn_Q/s1600/IMG_1659.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbsyUL2JeF0kHz1BA_YHz6WZl42W-9shOJqhiuHmUbFJFW2a3ly5TMMMskEqZDxUmB8isXFa8fPUzbw-YGuA__wgaUprvcKPAgekElg_toQmNCWfu-bBGUI6P0TYM69xZkxSqn_Q/s320/IMG_1659.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Reggie </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> I could not help
but to offer commendation to this artist barkeep, and he, Reggie, graciously responded in his Antiguan-English lilt. “The art of the
cocktail” he instructed, “ is not just in combining contents, but in the manner
in which they are presented”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">I inquired
about one particularly lovely libation that he set on the bar. “A rum punch”,
he announced, “ but made in the old fashioned manner”.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">The rum punch which I knew as familiar fare in these
tropical climes was artificially colored </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> imitation </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">fruit juice mixed with cheap rum and
a maraschino cherry. Not so under Reggie’s tutelage. His was a production,
involving hand pressed lime and layered rums, topped with bitters and nutmeg.
Not only was it a work of art, it was the most delicious cocktail I had ever
experienced. “Layering rum is vital to the proper rum drink”, Reggie explained.
“White is for power, dark is for flavor. Most people do not understand that
white rum has higher alcohol content and gives the drink its punch. It is the
quality of the dark rum that makes the drink flavorful, and as they have
different viscosities, they should be layered so that the customer may enjoy
the drink as it unfolds.”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">He replicated
this philosophy with another Caribbean classic, the </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Dark and Stormy. “People pour rum into ginger
ale and swirl it around like they are making chocolate milk. The proper Dark
and Stormy is cascading sheets of ginger beer rain descending from the </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">storm clouds </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">of dark</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">rum. The drink must give homage to its name”. So it was that Reggie the
barkeep at the Admiral’s Inn in Nelson’s Dockyard in English Harbor Antigua has
entered the lore of my sailing life, assuming that after my second Old Fashioned,
I remember any of it accurately. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"></span> </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ826F3iZLXOh2xlYjNm6xM7ZPrr5sgkTSValXVvcXv6g-GfA7n9RjPMX2mkFJiZrAiICJxUrsCjKYq89qqAdX1_Ba21LZ2j7AdZdf8co1jeyVxHW8si_Fe4YDWfoPdE4vuO6Vlg/s1600/IMG_1657.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ826F3iZLXOh2xlYjNm6xM7ZPrr5sgkTSValXVvcXv6g-GfA7n9RjPMX2mkFJiZrAiICJxUrsCjKYq89qqAdX1_Ba21LZ2j7AdZdf8co1jeyVxHW8si_Fe4YDWfoPdE4vuO6Vlg/s320/IMG_1657.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old Fashioned Rum Punch and Dark and Stormy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Reggie's Old Fashioned Rum Punch recipe:</o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>two teaspoons of simple syrup in bottom of manhattan glass</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Wash Lime and rinse</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Cut 1/2 of lime and hand squeeze gently enough to allow juice into glass, but not so much as to crush and misshapen the lime. Drop the lime into the syrup, cut end facing up</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Add high quality white rum</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Pour slowly and gently high quality dark rum into the side of the glass so that it does not glop into the white rum</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Sprinkle 6 or 8 drops of Angostura Bitters</o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Sprinkle nutmeg</o:p></span></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-56445697384196419342016-10-29T06:27:00.000-07:002017-01-06T07:11:54.235-08:00Sweet and Sour<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">the late 1700’s
the English remained in control of Antigua. Here in English Harbor, a protected cove
surrounded by tall hills, Admiral Nelson found the perfect refuge for the
English navy and the perfect lookout point.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUYqtCbkAkq9vzj1vXVkKcc9MUoWt1MjgPjsM1Wp6ajZVEWXZlMQ9kByyhb6LgSQZnClnWXj9_i_b7yCUDE1DxU0sb0MV82axTqFmxD-G_QrGnJZmqdq_c0JomHPrcrdS_kJwQzQ/s1600/IMG_1572.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUYqtCbkAkq9vzj1vXVkKcc9MUoWt1MjgPjsM1Wp6ajZVEWXZlMQ9kByyhb6LgSQZnClnWXj9_i_b7yCUDE1DxU0sb0MV82axTqFmxD-G_QrGnJZmqdq_c0JomHPrcrdS_kJwQzQ/s320/IMG_1572.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> From high on the hills, he could
monitor the Spanish and French fleets, the pirates and the privateers, and remain
in control of the English trade route. At that time, the trade route consisted
of a horrible triangle of human exploitation and suffering. The English would
pay conscriptors in Africa to rip people from their homes, stuff them foot to
head on slave ships and ship them here, where they would be bought by the sugar
plantation owners. The plantation owners were mostly Dutch…why?</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Because the Dutch were experts at wind power
and it took wind power to run the sugar pressing mills.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_Z1rd5eIkzMN4BuDh1ycTJSjj9Va1i3UkLyC7a58BUGDHuf48RPxuupgWre5GaCPTiKDRsAYm3ZAIfY1q1yIgSXUv5DpGI5sIXwEMiivdYkd0TCvBdoypAjdGdH9nktInvBoKg/s1600/IMG_1601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_Z1rd5eIkzMN4BuDh1ycTJSjj9Va1i3UkLyC7a58BUGDHuf48RPxuupgWre5GaCPTiKDRsAYm3ZAIfY1q1yIgSXUv5DpGI5sIXwEMiivdYkd0TCvBdoypAjdGdH9nktInvBoKg/s320/IMG_1601.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Then the sugar would be processed and sent to
England where the wealthy clamored for it to add to their </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">tea…tea being another slave labor product from
the Caribbean. But first the merchant ships would stop off in the Carolinas to
pick up the slave labor cotton. While in port, they would sell Caribbean sugar
and spices </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">to the newly liberated United
States…until England imposed a tax on any goods being sold to foreign nations,
and the U.S.A. now being a foreign nation, the Antiguan sugar barons had to pay
tax to sell to the U.S.A. The sugar industry went in the dumps, the Dutch stopped
buying slaves, and in retribution (not out of some moral imperative) England
responded by outlawing slavery in Antigua. In 1834, every resident of Antigua
became </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">a free man, and 85% of the population
was a freed slave. They were free but they were starving, because there were
few ways to make a living. Christian missionaries descended upon the island to
provide education and hope, and the English still owned the island so the Queen
had to provide subsidies to keep the island from descending into chaos. The foregoing</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">is my long winded way of explaining Antigua
today. It is a fascinating country. The people are educated, healthy and happy.
The country became independent in 1981, but holds on to both an English sensibility and
its own culture. They are fluent in both </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">their patois and a sartorial</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">English. The economy is better than most of
the Leewards, but if you are not native Antiguan, good luck getting a job here.
They are highly religious. It is not uncommon for them to be singing songs of
praise as they go about their business. There is a pride in their tiny country
and people take pride in their jobs in a manner </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">that we have experienced no where else in the
Caribbean. In my next post, I will introduce you to one of our favorite
examples.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Julianne January 3rd </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAorC8zLUaJW-vJXaSinHOR2vST1rgNlJpTAUjQ3YrIV03JTbJkQau-IwbaSGVaw-Yj2MQMYycwAymHgW2iHZjgOQXoTG2hIjdbdkhWxGszz8LEqaeM1Ho2GkUTYGMfgzw8eI2A/s1600/IMG_1534.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpAorC8zLUaJW-vJXaSinHOR2vST1rgNlJpTAUjQ3YrIV03JTbJkQau-IwbaSGVaw-Yj2MQMYycwAymHgW2iHZjgOQXoTG2hIjdbdkhWxGszz8LEqaeM1Ho2GkUTYGMfgzw8eI2A/s320/IMG_1534.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<h4 class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
Atop Fort Berkely English Harbour</h4>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
</div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-8510157073820449062016-10-28T09:58:00.000-07:002017-02-02T06:00:24.436-08:00Dondelino<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7fJcSOWWC6qIOHQ173_avITt7uwOHq3-XcAWndQg0wxNi8IZzvCFsL9xdEaNspUj2T5i59q-1xRemGFGVFbO4gH9UgRkw0vOG_31_RjQizjikTgR8UxA4ahqG6HYHVwFe8JnWRQ/s1600/IMG_1632.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7fJcSOWWC6qIOHQ173_avITt7uwOHq3-XcAWndQg0wxNi8IZzvCFsL9xdEaNspUj2T5i59q-1xRemGFGVFbO4gH9UgRkw0vOG_31_RjQizjikTgR8UxA4ahqG6HYHVwFe8JnWRQ/s320/IMG_1632.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Rossella and her son Andrea from Milan invested their life
savings in a little corner of English Harbor to create a Spanish/Italian
restaurant they named Incanto (“enchantment”). He is a young and beautiful man
about 30, speaking perfect English. She speaks very little English but is
adorably outgoing and <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">not afraid to
practice on you. The food is delicious and imaginative. They furnished the
restaurant with chairs from Italy that have back springs, and with a little prodding you can get the chair back to give you a gentle rock. You discover
this after your second glass of wine and it is luxuriating. Rossella saw me
appreciating the chair, davening like a Chasidic jew,</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">and announced…”you like? In my country, when
you do this, we say you are ‘dondelino’”</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">I did not understand the term, but there seemed to me no American word that could
better describe my state of mind at that moment….boat firmly at anchor, belly
full of ragu spaetzle ( an amazing pasta that will soon be the craze at
home), my head woozy with Malbec, and me gently rocking my Incanto chair </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">above the waters of beautiful English Harbor. I was
indeed, at that moment, dondelino. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlXbhMjyV5KmZ_GUtq6DCW1f5Qqnaor-T0ljhZ92TZz064A5ym0JKmk4aJBPvcRo6WpGvy_bnrjQYyAL2Y-nmYUQ0DLua_TKoTOVhNK8tuvnRK_sgJxxEywQb6hPE2LYXuuhkj8Q/s1600/IMG_1610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlXbhMjyV5KmZ_GUtq6DCW1f5Qqnaor-T0ljhZ92TZz064A5ym0JKmk4aJBPvcRo6WpGvy_bnrjQYyAL2Y-nmYUQ0DLua_TKoTOVhNK8tuvnRK_sgJxxEywQb6hPE2LYXuuhkj8Q/s320/IMG_1610.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>December 23rd, 2016</o:p></span></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-75108187437899723222016-10-27T10:33:00.000-07:002016-12-29T10:07:29.886-08:00Antigua Bound<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The title to this post sounds like we are embarking to
Antigua. In fact, the opposite is true. We are already in Antigua. We have been
here for days. We are ready to move to other Leeward Islands. There are so many
we want to visit. Nature, however, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">is
disagreeing with our plans.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiET2IEM_ELwf1Ol6L6r3MabdKlxmxWTC7oxGa0DH3MErSWtjEB15DOKyJDVmKFffpMNkiRMpuNwebhREbL2osETTB7jnRvVkprEuVeo6SX2u0UdzFMPYUy65CrCCdnkTMIi8iC-g/s1600/this+is+us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiET2IEM_ELwf1Ol6L6r3MabdKlxmxWTC7oxGa0DH3MErSWtjEB15DOKyJDVmKFffpMNkiRMpuNwebhREbL2osETTB7jnRvVkprEuVeo6SX2u0UdzFMPYUy65CrCCdnkTMIi8iC-g/s320/this+is+us.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">We are bound to Antigua because of the wind. Most of the year,
the Leeward Islands get wind from the south and southeast. These are the warm
and pleasant trade winds. But during some random periods in December and
January, these islands get what is known as “the Christmas winds”: a placid
sounding nomenclature<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">for stiff blows
coming from the east or northeast. The Christmas winds have arrived on our
doorstep </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">like a least favorite relative
at the holidays and showing every</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">sign
of overstaying their</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">welcome.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">To sail to Guadelope and Dominica …we love what we read
about these <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">islands…we would have to
sail south</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">in 8-10 foot seas. Keep in
mind that these waves would be hitting us squarely on our port beam (left
side). Let me describe the effect:</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">for
10 hours, we would be trying to hold onto and steer a boat that was swaying
viciously from one side to the other, the mast tip scribing a giant semi circle
against the heavens like a giant upside down metronome.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">If the sea did not kill us, we would probably
kill each other from the stress this creates. You can’t eat. You do not want to
go below for any reason, including going to bathroom. It’s one thing to being
on deck and seeing the waves coming; it’s still another to be tossed about below
in the </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">cabin like a
drunken…well..sailor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">So we are Antigua bound. We are slightly frustrated because
we have come so far only to be thwarted in our quest for the far frontier. At
the same time, we are undaunted. We are appreciative of the beauty of our
present anchorage in English Harbor. We are getting to know the people and the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">lay of the land and embarking on new</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">adventures each day, land based though they
be. We are sailors and we pay attention to what the wind tells us. It is
telling us to lay low, and we are heeding its warning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Coming soon:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Lots of
Antigua posts. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Julianne December 26th, 2016</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-90570930476053309702016-10-26T09:38:00.000-07:002016-12-24T13:04:25.716-08:00The Slog<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sailing directly into the wind is something sailors hate.
First of all, you can’t technically do it. A sailboat cannot sail with the wind
directly on its nose. You have to tack, back and forth. So if the wind is from
the east, and your destination is directly east, you are in for a long and
painful sail. You must head way off course, then head way off course<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">90 degrees in the opposite direction, and
repeat, over and over, hoping that the current is not also on your nose. A 90
mile trip becomes a 150 mile trip if you are likely. A sailboat does 6 or 7
knots, on a good day. You do the math.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0XdrETZ7gxFNhJ7Hfb03YOcdkeLAgIVk-wbOQORErFJ_dWTiktcPHe-oTd3DUUQT5UUCkkrcUBXjORZsC7DtKOM8R0EBVLR6cIxdQVdrXiO0cn2RCVijEAPJBs3tmA3fvbgGoA/s1600/here+we+be.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX0XdrETZ7gxFNhJ7Hfb03YOcdkeLAgIVk-wbOQORErFJ_dWTiktcPHe-oTd3DUUQT5UUCkkrcUBXjORZsC7DtKOM8R0EBVLR6cIxdQVdrXiO0cn2RCVijEAPJBs3tmA3fvbgGoA/s320/here+we+be.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Long story short: we got the poopdeck beat out of us on our
way to the Leewards. No anchorage was ever more welcome, or<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">sunset from the cockpit ever more lovely,
than in Jolly Harbour Antigua. When my stiff fingers recover from grasping the
wheel, I will report further. Meanwhile, to all you paying attention, we love
and miss you and wish you the merriest of Christmas. We know ours will be
Jolly.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-58756471213537169622016-10-25T09:54:00.000-07:002017-02-16T04:50:16.213-08:00The Deadman and the Dinghy<br />
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">When you are sail cruising, there are many vital tools
essential to the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">experience: a spare
GPS; a good Swiss Army Knife; a hand held radio, just to name a few. But no
tool is more essential than the dinghy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOiAKmuETa1-zqBZyI2UlG8zRvHMIt4gZil5xaF3hvnlVAvpMlwtwXnriDCXhV2YJZgSVBzfPAWoU1WM0SghWe2BPBeiApMt8_0wxCK7bojuLNDy18y4nenw5_uVrz-GwjU0C8g/s1600/IMG_1037.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTOiAKmuETa1-zqBZyI2UlG8zRvHMIt4gZil5xaF3hvnlVAvpMlwtwXnriDCXhV2YJZgSVBzfPAWoU1WM0SghWe2BPBeiApMt8_0wxCK7bojuLNDy18y4nenw5_uVrz-GwjU0C8g/s320/IMG_1037.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">The places that we cruisers go almost
never involve marinas. Aside from the fact that they are far and few between, </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">and that while there you may procure</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">more fuel and water for your boat, your boat
in a dock is basically a </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">box with
no breeze and the smell of diesel wafting in. So we opt for the coves and the
anchorages and the small unpopulated harbors. These places look beautiful from
the boat, but you will never touch that white sand beneath </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">those swaying palms but for the dinghy. In the
Caribbean, on small boats </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">you typically
tow your dinghy. It bounces along behind you like a faithful puppy. You arrive
in your cove, you drop anchor, secure the boat, and hop into the dinghy with
its little 4 or 5 horsepower outboard, and a few putter putters later </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">you are at another tropical bar/ grill made
out of sticks by some local who is happy to see you and happier still to sell
you a roti ( a</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Caribbean chicken curry
burrito) and a beer. Then you can hike into the hills </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">and see what mysteries loom beyond. </span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimejzsi4qPUMAuaIopcOzVg6yW3ERl6QVMp8Gd64MhMahWTR08Xmr7Jw6RgfNRIS9tBV223XqgwcAagoorOu5bo0Ic2BKIn_luijTOWaaev45bzfeBkvpvW6kIu_Z-IFv0nBfz1g/s1600/shack+on+beach.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimejzsi4qPUMAuaIopcOzVg6yW3ERl6QVMp8Gd64MhMahWTR08Xmr7Jw6RgfNRIS9tBV223XqgwcAagoorOu5bo0Ic2BKIn_luijTOWaaev45bzfeBkvpvW6kIu_Z-IFv0nBfz1g/s320/shack+on+beach.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">food shack on Princess Diana beach, Barbuda</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> </div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">If the dinghy breaks <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">you are a prisoner of the boat. Oh sure, you
could row it, but that gets old, particularly if</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">shore is a quarter mile away. Remember, it’s
hot, and you have been at sea, and you just want firm footing </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">and a cold one. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">What if you fell out of your dinghy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">What if someone else wanted your dinghy? Bad
day either way. Ergo the deadman key: A plastic prong at the business</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">end of a red rubberized wristlet. It must be
clicked into the outboard for it to run. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Forget the deadman key, and you are delayed.
Lose the deadman key, you are screwed. Die and fall off the dinghy, well, at least the dinghy</span><span style="font-size: large;"> won’t get far.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Which is why we are vigilant about the deadman key. The
protocol: tie up the dinghy, hand over the deadman key to the crewmate <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">who is responsible for sticking it into the
dinghy bag, which goes with you wherever you travel. (More on the dinghy bag
later. There is a lot to dinghy-ism).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Moral: always know where lies the deadman key. At sea, it is
the key that unlocks your world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">P.S. So
as not to create confusion with an earlier post: </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDYUJguA6tDbm2Z1lOxiBvP7GYa1SuU7dUuQkHJHJw2vjPp9DxE8RAaVceoyhYsEDGMuZIpENd5HKh7hawaN11peaM2QGz4kxxks23kDb2u7OIHV1R2Y68EtG5KbAJAbOxePt-w/s1600/IMG_1507.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNDYUJguA6tDbm2Z1lOxiBvP7GYa1SuU7dUuQkHJHJw2vjPp9DxE8RAaVceoyhYsEDGMuZIpENd5HKh7hawaN11peaM2QGz4kxxks23kDb2u7OIHV1R2Y68EtG5KbAJAbOxePt-w/s200/IMG_1507.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deadman Key</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ijk2SzyMyaGsSY4qU6tXi8_9DIjW6mLdIOZkq-ZwgMlaCRbEEMBy2S5S4Ex0e83-ok-rgmsk83wgzi-wB6K1SJmdX-3hyphenhyphen7FRkRboTz6VNuEbLpyY9YtHgyN__INona6s6PUXjw/s1600/IMG_1016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ijk2SzyMyaGsSY4qU6tXi8_9DIjW6mLdIOZkq-ZwgMlaCRbEEMBy2S5S4Ex0e83-ok-rgmsk83wgzi-wB6K1SJmdX-3hyphenhyphen7FRkRboTz6VNuEbLpyY9YtHgyN__INona6s6PUXjw/s200/IMG_1016.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Deadman Cay</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span> Julianne December 13th, 2016</div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-3279109783372770282016-10-24T08:12:00.000-07:002016-12-13T08:15:17.042-08:00Cow Wreck Theory<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">For all of the effort it took to make it to Anegada, the
payoff was big. This is an island with the strangest of cultures. The people
are isolated but friendly, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">glad for outside
visitors. The economy is based on two things… renting you a
scooter and selling you lobster. The lobsters are so big they refer to them as
Lobzillas. You select your victim from a pen that is floating at the purveyors
dockside and they cook it for you in a half barrel grill with some kind of
special and delicious </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Anegadian spice.
When you are done, you traverse the island until you find a private beach. This is not an
arduous task, because the island is one long sugar sanded circle and there is
very little humanity here. Everything is a private beach.</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin: 0in 0in 8pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegaTw0vir1Mu9zwt7QoS2qpdoylkZa7aeIcgQfi-rydt2S-IZCrwdHZPr7O5VG150965Hq-ymEuQRQg-bkmbzfowveZmPJrYFZgJSJ8P2D0yhqwWxVoD5bt98SmfXFDVNj2RIdQ/s1600/IMG_1321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegaTw0vir1Mu9zwt7QoS2qpdoylkZa7aeIcgQfi-rydt2S-IZCrwdHZPr7O5VG150965Hq-ymEuQRQg-bkmbzfowveZmPJrYFZgJSJ8P2D0yhqwWxVoD5bt98SmfXFDVNj2RIdQ/s320/IMG_1321.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The only company you encounter on these gloriously
unscathed beaches is the occasional cow patty. Because on Anegada there seems
to be </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">more cows than people, and they
like the beaches too.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">We heard about a
particular beach called “Cow Wreck Beach” and we embarked in a beat up</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">rental jeep (driving left lane on scooters did not
appeal to our safety sensibilities) to tour the island and find this mythological
place. I anticipated the origin story…a boat full of cows having shipwrecked on
a beach and a few hearty survivors cowpaddling their way to shore, their
descendants becoming abundant and now populating this island en masse. Turns
out the theory was wrong.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">A shipwreck in
the early 20th century did indirectly involve cow but was not the seed of the cow infestation. In
fact, the profligate cowness of this island could not be explained by anyone we
talked to. Given the amazingly unsullied vista, the bizarre name may be the locals way of making this place uninviting to non-cows.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZv4E-RfJvp_kmpmqdwwD43nQ08MqJOr8gqcv2eaIpaegH3ciGo1StvZ4QhjkOZMRawWCexFVMko9kPu8RjqacuxIDgqHV7gvVCEfyD-v4C2OpsGthV_DGvj6_Y51hiEMvyxM5gQ/s1600/IMG_1317.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZv4E-RfJvp_kmpmqdwwD43nQ08MqJOr8gqcv2eaIpaegH3ciGo1StvZ4QhjkOZMRawWCexFVMko9kPu8RjqacuxIDgqHV7gvVCEfyD-v4C2OpsGthV_DGvj6_Y51hiEMvyxM5gQ/s320/IMG_1317.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">So we just enjoyed a cold one as we deliberated on how the Cow Wreck Beach Bar and Grille could survive, given that it is an impossible Bar to get to on an island that is impossible to get to, and given that it appeared that only we and the cows had frequented it in the recent past. Since Joe speaks fluent Cow, he mooed out the window to the bovine residents as we made our way home, thanking them for sharing their slice of paradise, stopping at a fisherman's lair to procure a lobzilla for another day.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeyYuymHuJnwWV72bRxsUCaB6gHJPIlKoq-t-nAkpYclqta50Z6T9xwh-CoZHq-Vtj_L029t86_jhtWSR_SuPmU9JdaHV3xJNglO_jFkkkNNdMoTN4hODOOt6QmFbXQBdd2uNuig/s1600/IMG_1334.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeyYuymHuJnwWV72bRxsUCaB6gHJPIlKoq-t-nAkpYclqta50Z6T9xwh-CoZHq-Vtj_L029t86_jhtWSR_SuPmU9JdaHV3xJNglO_jFkkkNNdMoTN4hODOOt6QmFbXQBdd2uNuig/s320/IMG_1334.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><o:p>Julianne December 9th, 2016</o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-28271021208971341292016-10-23T04:53:00.000-07:002016-12-11T04:58:34.063-08:00Buried Treasure<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTXqvuVV9YJmoGgwP_44QpmY3RjwXkAD4BxhjCfIZ_gPcmh2k_cxa8jmGOoW1ORh7A-KQfsSBlzmhgg8ltUgYgkwGSBvYlT5DCeUf_btgCtDYppUS87s1ROUJdZf9eDVibkLv-w/s1600/IMG_1389.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTXqvuVV9YJmoGgwP_44QpmY3RjwXkAD4BxhjCfIZ_gPcmh2k_cxa8jmGOoW1ORh7A-KQfsSBlzmhgg8ltUgYgkwGSBvYlT5DCeUf_btgCtDYppUS87s1ROUJdZf9eDVibkLv-w/s320/IMG_1389.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Recently we anchored in the Bight, the harbor of Norman
Island. Norman Island is sometimes referred to as “treasure island”,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">less owing to its marked resemblance to Robert
Louis Stevenson’s famous setting as to its actual history. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span lang="EN" style="mso-ansi-language: EN;"><span style="font-size: large;">In
August 1750, the crew of a </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spanish_treasure_fleet" title="Spanish treasure fleet"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Spanish treasure</span></span></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galleon" title="Galleon"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">galleon</span></span></a><span style="font-size: large;">
named </span><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;"><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nuestra_Se%C3%B1ora_de_Guadalupe" title="Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe</span></span></a></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutiny" title="Mutiny"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;"><span style="font-size: large;">mutinied</span></span></a><span style="font-size: large;">
and the ship’s </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">treasure, said to include
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">55 chests of silver coins, was buried on
Norman, some of it having been found over the years. </span></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">It is buried </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">treasure that holds the allure of the sailing
life, though not of the shiny dubloon nature, </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">and to find it requires a certain temperament.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Patience is fundamental to sailing. A sailboat moves slowly,
even when it is moving fast. There is not enough room for two people to change
their clothes at the same time. You have to tolerate each other’s<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">idiosyncracies because you are crammed</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">together. Alot.</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">The Caribbean operates at a different pace. Everything
happens on Island Time. Meaning: slowly. No one is in a hurry. Checking out
groceries can take a half <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">hour. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">You can finish half a novel waiting for the
laundry lady to finish your clothes. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">In America, riots would break out if things
operated at this pace. So you learn to be patient. Things will happen when they
happen, and not a minute before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">You have to be organized. There is so little space, that
everything has a place and it has to be put back exactly in that space as soon
as you are done with it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">You have to pay attention to rules. Things must be done
meticulously and in a particular order, or something bad will happen. If you do
not turn off the nonessential powered items at night, you will awake without
power. If you do not rinse briefly , then turn off the water while you lather
up, then rinse briefly again, you will run out of water. If you do not hand up
things from the dinghy with two hands and grasp them with two hands, they will
be lost to the proverbial drink. Rules are everything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Many people would find this lifestyle intolerable. You are
hot and sticky and mosquito bitten and there is always a stubbed toe or banged
finger or swimmer’s ear. Those of us who look past those things and love this
life, do so because of the remarkable rewards. You wake up and study the
barometer and the tides and wind and then choose a new and unexplored
destination. Then, if you have been patient, stayed organized and followed the
rules, you get to sail off and discover rare corners of this planet. It is those that are for us, the
true buried treasure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBtbz2lu3W9tihmMyMmMtFLGx7gI4yH6m4iuaorGBwo23IK7qfI5_mGl1CvVNhYfR3w8-X5WiT2kaQgrxE3gL1BjI2m_rCdW_wUYsyLEqQwYelX9ELh9-lIwcQBdTvnwH_-5z4g/s1600/IMG_1275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIBtbz2lu3W9tihmMyMmMtFLGx7gI4yH6m4iuaorGBwo23IK7qfI5_mGl1CvVNhYfR3w8-X5WiT2kaQgrxE3gL1BjI2m_rCdW_wUYsyLEqQwYelX9ELh9-lIwcQBdTvnwH_-5z4g/s320/IMG_1275.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-53963478008772939242016-10-22T13:13:00.000-07:002016-12-11T04:57:34.502-08:00Foxy and Free at Last<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Ask any seasoned sailor about the most famous tropical bars
in the Caribbean, and they will invariably mention a watering hole on the
water <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">known as “Foxy’s”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 8pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;">As you approach the island of Jost Van Dyke, in the
Caribbean Sea north of Tortola, you are seeing a jungle enshrouded tip of a once
volcanic mountain rising from the sea. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNkpR1Ic-Z16LlHOR-VL2LH1tbZ3EeFw8KbHdFIYUtCeRJ16oZLCUGNhdk6e_HHQk6Le8LVdntgYE12F6fwuFKyvme8qT-hgiyPfqUd34Ezpu610c5FeHP03xxB07k8SGNN2fJg/s1600/IMG_1105.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLNkpR1Ic-Z16LlHOR-VL2LH1tbZ3EeFw8KbHdFIYUtCeRJ16oZLCUGNhdk6e_HHQk6Le8LVdntgYE12F6fwuFKyvme8qT-hgiyPfqUd34Ezpu610c5FeHP03xxB07k8SGNN2fJg/s320/IMG_1105.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">appears to be without human presence until you
settle yourself in Great Harbour where you note a few scant shacks along the
shorefront. Tucked into a corner on the east, at the end of a rickety dock, is
Foxy’s. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDAiDYeB4Ial5KoKSAyyM6ssdU30AejHjL6GumMBzP7AI_CVkI0_oi8HckADC0gg74QMLpOmWJVXydFZM9Qs0fnTzdKryO3WRbxsxvyV9KFiYTD8WXbbfDs6bPPNDqHLUEbehGNQ/s1600/IMG_1425.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDAiDYeB4Ial5KoKSAyyM6ssdU30AejHjL6GumMBzP7AI_CVkI0_oi8HckADC0gg74QMLpOmWJVXydFZM9Qs0fnTzdKryO3WRbxsxvyV9KFiYTD8WXbbfDs6bPPNDqHLUEbehGNQ/s320/IMG_1425.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">It is a blue roofed, open air structure, dogeared and weather beaten,
with a few tables and a small inconspicuous </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">bar.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">It
is nondescript except for the fact that every square inch of the ramshackle
structure is adorned with license plates; plates from every conceivable corner
of our planet where vehicles must register.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When Foxy Caldwell first opened his then lemonade stand
sized establishment, he could not have foretold what was to come. He would not
know that the Beach Boys, the Jimmy Buffetts and the Kenny Chesneys of the world
would make this place famous; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">a virtual
pilgrimage. A place where New Years eve rivals Times Square. The attraction, it
seems to me, is its remoteness; if you are imbibing at Foxys, you are doing so
only after considerable time, expense and effort. You are celebrating not only
the fact that this is Foxy’s, but celebrating yourself for accomplishing the nearly
impossible in getting here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Which is why, four years ago, with my son Evan at my side, I
proudly and ceremoniously added my license plate “FRE8LAS” to a predominant
position on the seagrape gnarled front gable of the entrance to Foxys. It was,
for a sailor like me, a rite of passage.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Which is also why, upon returning to Jost yesterday, Joe and
I were astounded and excited to see FRE8LAS hanging at Foxys, just where we left it.
Dingier and rustier, but there nonetheless. I imagined all the sailors who took
a rum sotted tour of the licenses over these last four years, and who seeing my
plate, might have pondered the backstory of this anonymous sailor who was, for <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">probably some </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">wonderful reason, free at last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiTHV8bemwst5DGJaefF5cwZd_rvZPPIg9OgL__BeZArm7edYUmByjoHhgt9d7M4zD_YCon8PDWdUK4mHwnfljaL7ZITL0jG0p0_bVNhQC6zImZfJwhuOWDnlOYHLrjReB0CHMQ/s1600/fre8las+still+there.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZiTHV8bemwst5DGJaefF5cwZd_rvZPPIg9OgL__BeZArm7edYUmByjoHhgt9d7M4zD_YCon8PDWdUK4mHwnfljaL7ZITL0jG0p0_bVNhQC6zImZfJwhuOWDnlOYHLrjReB0CHMQ/s320/fre8las+still+there.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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December 5th, 2016</div>
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Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10715592.post-68810735790281178472016-10-21T14:17:00.000-07:002016-12-11T04:56:13.889-08:00Anegada Tell You (This Was Some Entry)<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is a tiny island in the Caribbean named Anegada. Until
a few years back, it was virtually impossible for any but the most seasoned of
sailors to get a boat to it. It is literally in inches of water and surrounded
by an expansive reef. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OCWK7lxVMvy0Zo2xY4OPdr6sYsT70IJGG7kL1ywGaAt4ADk2bwhFLYe_Hc3rMisAZhPcNPBU_hree1fOlkH1FWgbfyQme4D0jNqxJ72tW_tvL8LwnQZonwGUt9exzboE_XFJLw/s1600/IMG_1199.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7OCWK7lxVMvy0Zo2xY4OPdr6sYsT70IJGG7kL1ywGaAt4ADk2bwhFLYe_Hc3rMisAZhPcNPBU_hree1fOlkH1FWgbfyQme4D0jNqxJ72tW_tvL8LwnQZonwGUt9exzboE_XFJLw/s320/IMG_1199.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Now there is a version of a channel…a couple of red
markers giving you a modicum of guidance on how to bring in your boat and not
tear it to tatters. Still, you must attempt entry to Anegada only in the
sharpest and highest of sunlight. It is the only way to see the variant colors
of the water…turquoise or white marking sand underneath; <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">darker shades heralding coral head danger. I
have now sailed the Virgin Islands four times, never having conjured the courage
to venture off to Anegada, some 20 miles distant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">While crew enjoyed early morning coffee in the cockpit as
the sun awoke over North Sound in Virgin Gorda, I was contemplative, pondering
the many factors that I would have to monitor to make for a safe passage to
Anegada. Knowing light was going to be one of those factors, I anxiously
cajoled the crew to complete their predeparture preparations. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The trip was uneventful and mellowing, the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">Virgin Islands disappearing off our stern. We
sailed </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">under a </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">sky blue and cloudless, the light wind in our
sails both gratifying in their </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">calm but at
the same time, </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">exasperating, </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">given </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">my present need for speed. We turned the bend
around our final GPS waypoint and began to snake through the minimal and unhelpful
buoys </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">marking an illusory path into safe
waters near Anegada . Our boat drew 7 feet, meaning our keel would hit bottom
if the ocean gave us less.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">We could see
only sporadic light patches of water. The depth meter alarm was screaming at
me. We gingerly made our way into a pack of boats, mostly catamarans. This </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">was not at all </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">comforting, as catamarans draw 2 feet at best.
As we approached a mooring ball, the depth meter read 0.2…2 inches of water
separating the bottom of my keel from the top of something hard. I advised the
crew to brace for impact. Before that could happen, Joe adeptly snagged the
mooring pendant and tied us on to it. “Boat Secure”, he yelled , as is
protocol. We all stand frozen and silent, not believing that we have actually,
and finally, </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">made it to Anegada. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">As you will see in posts to come, we were glad we did.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Julianne<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;">December 4</span><sup><span style="font-size: medium;">th</span></sup><span style="font-size: large;">,
2016<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></o:p></div>
Juliannehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09347039756560232990noreply@blogger.com