Learning to sail in the BVI
Adventure during hurricane season
Patrice Johnson
It was a simple enough goal. Learn to sail during a seven-day charter in the British Virgin Islands. My boat mates and I envisioned a leisurely adventure – that would require sunscreen, bug spray and ice for our umbrella drinks. We were almost right.
Understand, the three of us – my nine year-old daughter Kamryn, University of the Virgin Islands student Angela Gumbs and St. John caterer Laura Nichols-Samms- have collectively lived in the V.I. for more than 40 years. Angela and Kamryn are native Virgin Islanders. So why would we book a learn to sail trip on a 32-foot sailboat in hurricane season?
Blame it on the Black Boaters Summit, that annual event that brings scores of sailors to the British and U.S. Virgin Islands for 10 days of sailing and land-based fun. I’d been internet surfing and discovered the BBS Bulletin Board (http://www.honeyletstravel.com), which posts the comments of seasoned and not so seasoned sailors who’ve gone on the trip. They were having way too much fun.
Most of the 110 or so people who participated this year traveled in high style, on top-of-the-line catamarans. In fact, ours was the smallest boat and we were the only Learn-to-Sail crew in the flotilla.
Our trip began on Friday in August, when we met our captain at The Moorings on Tortola. Alan Johnson, a sinewy ex-Navy man, is a no-nonsense grandfather of eight whose passion for sailing is infectious. Our course began in Road Town, and included Cane Garden Bay, Leverick Bay, the Bitter End Yacht Club, the Baths on Virgin Gorda, Anegada and Jost Van Dyke.
I’d read four chapters of Sailing Fundamentals and watched ASA videos prior to boarding . But the body bag and yoga mat I packed looked a lot smaller and less cumbersome on land. I supervised Kamryn’s packing, which included a rolling duffel and fishing rod. Captain Alan’s disapproving glare made me wince.
I’ve been on sailboats before and always enjoyed the quiet, the sensation of going with the flow. But I never paid much attention to how it was done. This trip changed that.
Nautical terms I’ve used my whole life now make sense. Leaving The Moorings nobody got to just sit back and relax. It was “all hands on deck” for the next seven days.
We wore gloves to protect us from rope burn, we developed sea legs that enabled us to rush about from stem to stern, above and below, at a moment’s notice. Most of all we established a rhythm to our teamwork that kept the boat moving safely in the right direction .
Sailing from Road Town to Soper’s Hole we raised the jib (the foremost sail) and got a feel for heeling over, which took some getting used to. After an overnight mooring at Soper’s Hole on Tortola’s West End it was off to Cane Garden Bay in 15 to 20-knot winds. None of us had taken much stock of wind direction or speed prior to this trip. Sure we’d notice if there was a breeze or not. But this was different. In order to sail you have to become conscious of which way the wind is blowing and then adjust to its power. Sometimes you just have to take down the sails.
Each of us has a whole new appreciation for Mother Nature and how a monohull handles in squalls – having been caught in a nasty storm with 45 mph winds between Anegada and Virgin Gorda. The boat came equipped with rain gear that we seldom stowed. When visions of the movie The Perfect Storm had us more than a bit worried, we’d just look at Captain Alan and read his body language. Usually he’d just ask, Is the coffee still hot?
Although I was the only member of the crew attempting certification, each of us absorbed the Basic Keelboat Sailing 101 curriculum.
What I’m happiest about though, aside from the fact that we’re all still friends after the trip, is that Kamryn has developed a passion for boats and sailing. She commanded the dinghy from day one.
Kamryn, Angela, Laura and I are now hooked on sailing. And we have only Captain Alan and the Black Boaters Summit to blame.
Patrice Johnson is Director of Communication for the University of the Vrigin Islands

