Peter Island - Assylum for the Fiscally Insane, Day 8 of 10

We left Cooper Island and headed for Peter Island for our next moorage. Again, an arduous journey fraught with peril and adventure on the high seas.

Worshiping at the alter of the iGod

Once arriving at Peter Island we figured that the Peter Island Resort and Spa might be a nice place to anchor up, so we headed on in to the cove. My first clue about the exclusivity of this place was the fact that there were only 4 mooring buoys and:

You know how hotel web sites will have available amenities, like booking conference rooms and such? On the web site for this place, you have the option to rent the whole island.

"Sometimes, reserving your private place in luxury on our island isn't enough. Sometimes, you just need the whole island. Ask about our island buyout rates."

I was going to go for it but they didn't have an ATM there.

We were able hail a dock lackey to inquire about getting a slip and were motioned to take up a dock position right behind someone's yot. Unfortunately the maneuvering space required was pretty small and we weren't willing to split the cost of yot repair 4 ways so we headed back out and around the corner to the next cove. Probably a good thing since Cap'n Tobb was starting have a bit of trouble maneuvering the boat.

The Great Sailing Yot Race
There are a lot of boats out and about all over these islands all day. Probably a 30 to 1 sailboat to power boat ratio. And sadly there are a lot fewer mooring buoys than boats so from about 3pm on people start thinking about where they are going to tie up for the night and start moseying in that direction. By 5 pm you may be SOL on a buoy and have to anchor.

When we left the Peter Island Resort and Spa and went around the corner we noticed that there was only one remaining buoy so we started for it. Then we noticed that another boat was also going for it so the Great Sailing Yot Race was on. Of course we're both under engine power so the throttles are firewalled and the craft surges forward at the break-neck speed of 5 knots. The next question is who's gonna flinch. As the two craft bore down on each other it was anyone's guess. Both skippers' steely gaze alternating from the other boat to the buoy and back, trying to mentally calculate the outcome. CBDR - constant bearing, decreasing range; collision course. It cast my mind back to my younger days as I remembered once sitting on the porch step watching two slugs on the concrete in the same scenario; transfixed until the outcome (the black one won).

As it turned out we had a slight edge on the competition (wind at our back) and took the glory from that field. Sadly, the shine of the victory was somewhat diminished when it took us three or four passes to snag the ball (previously mentioned maneuvering trouble). We eventually tied up and shut down. There was another bar/restaurant at the opposite end of the cove and it did look like there were available buoys down there so Steve and I went for a recon mission. It was like the Metropolitan grill versus the Buzz Inn. We were able to determine that they did have rum, but no lobsta, mon. So it was to be another miserable night in paradise.