Part 3 of my Grandparent's ill-fated visit to the Virgin Islands in the early 80's.

1. HOW DO WE GET OFF THIS DAMN ISLAND? (Part III)
There we were, out in choppy seas and gusting winds with no engine and being pulled
towards a reef by the incoming tide. Sounds a little bit like Master and Commander right? ;)
As insane as it may seem to you, and, to be honest, at this stage of my life to me as well, I
remember very clearly being truly excited and alive and having just the very best time. What
an adventure! I had to imagine that this was the kind of situation old seafarers faced on a
nearly day to day basis. It was literally us against the sea...no modern technology, no stinky
engine to bail us out. We had to be smart enough and tough enough to figure it out and pull
life from the very jaws of death!!! Ok, so that's probably over stating it a tad bit. ;)
As the reef drew closer and Mom, Dad and I struggled to bring Tau Mu around so we could
catch the wind at a proper angle and pull away from the tide, my Grandparents, being
unsuccessfully soothed by the marine savvy and incredibly calm 5 year old that was my
baby sister, freaked out on a truly epic scale. "You're going to get us killed!" Mel, your a son
of a bitch!" "I don't want to die on this damn island!"
In my 12 year old wisdom I thought it appropriate to correct them..."Grandma, we aren't
technically on the island". As I'm sure you can guess, that little informative statement did not
go over well.
Let me take a second to make something very clear. My Father is not the best of people,
but he is, to this day, one of the very best mariners I have ever seen or heard of. If you are
going to be in a tough situation at sea, you wanted Dad there to help pull you out. And on
that particular excitement filled day, we were in a legitimately tough situation.
We fought that chop and swirling wind for some time before we finally pulled free. The rocks
were close enough that we could hear the surf beating against them over the immense
cacophony of sound being generated by Mother Nature in the moment. There was that
palpable rush that comes from surviving a dicey situation as we caught the wind and sailed
smoothly out of danger. Mom, Dad, Erin and I were laughing, sharing a couple of hugs and
high fives in celebration...Grandma and Grandpa were not. In fact, they were just sitting
there together, faces grim, eyes set straight ahead as we cruised back to Charlotte Amalie
harbor.
Directly in the mouth of the harbor there is a very cool island that will come up several times
in various Interesting Tales of mine. It was long and thin and had been the home of a very
exclusive resort that was now abandoned. On the opposite side of the island from the
decaying hotel there were glorious cliffs that I was silly enough to jump off several times.
Being that we were solely under power of sail we couldn't just fly into a crowded harbor and
attempt to dock without an engine. So, we sailed into the lee of the little island (another
nautical term), pulled into the wind to cease our momentum, and dropped anchor.
Phew...lives saved. :)
Now came the time to answer the oh so important question, why was the engine, which had
successfully navigated us out of the harbor that morning, refusing to start now? Dad
checked everything...oil, connections, this and that and that and this...and then he finally

2. manually checked the fuel level. Yup, you guessed it, we nearly crashed Tau Mu and my
Grandparents on a reef because we were out of fuel. :)
Apparently the fuel guage was broken and showing plenty of diesel when of course it was in
truth dry as a bone.
After a few minutes of the 4 of us laughing about it casually and my Grandparents fuming,
my Dad took the skiff (dingy), with my Grandfather in it, and went ashore to get fuel. I tell
you, it took forever to get Granddad on that skiff with his crutches and fused ankle. We had
a few near christenings but managed to be victorious and the two motored away. A couple
of hours later they successfully made the return journey, fuel in hand. We filled up, well put
in enough to get to shore, and puttered our way in to dock.
We had made it. We had survived. We had braved Mother Nature and lived to talk about.
Here we were at dock, safe and sound. We calmed my Grandparents down, assured them
the danger was passed, had a nice dinner and went to sleep.
We assumed of course that nothing all that scary could occur while moored at dock. Boy
were we wrong! Tune in for Part IV to fond out what happened next!