Having chartered many yachts it is only fair to say that K8 is the best by far in many respects, especially in terms of entertainment. The “kids” loved all the “toys” for watersports, especially the waterskiing, wakeboarding and “doughnuts”. It was lovely to also have the ability to just chill out whenever we wished with all the multimedia systems on board. Thank you Jen for all the delicious meals , which were much enjoyed by all.

All in all it was a truly memorable family holiday and we will definitely be back – the “kids” are already asking when!

Thank you again

Daniel Hearsum

It’s normally the Irish who have great wakes (the ‘after funeral party’), but this time it was Les Holliday’s wake where we re-kindled old sailing friendships. My husband David (DT) is a long time sailing friend of the family and we flew across to Berkhamstead for Les’s funeral.  Late into the afternoon and after a few ‘jars’, David Holliday (David H) invited us to crew on his new Oyster 72 Kealoha 8 for the ARC 2006. Obviously we didn’t take long to accept the invitation and so began the voyage of a lifetime.

Now this is where these jottings start to get confusing – you will be reading about David H, David T and David C. David H decided to bring together the old Kealoha crew of the 70s and unfortunately they were all called David. He succeeded in persuading Dave Cobden (Cobby) to bring his driving skills and DT to go back to his old job of mast man. Now remember that the last time these guys sailed together was over 30 years ago and the talent remains the same but the bodies don’t resemble the slim, fit men of the 70s. Despite all these drawbacks, the team was starting to get together. David enlisted his nephew Chas Holliday, Sigma 38 sailor Neil Aitchison and brother-in-law Alan Marshall.

Next thing we had to do was organise time off work. Since my headmaster didn’t feel justified in giving me unpaid leave from school, I took a years’ career break instead. This meant that I had all the time in the world whilst poor hubby DT earned the pennies!  In September David invited me for a short delivery trip from Sardinia to Cannes for K8 to feature in the Cannes Boat Show. It was a great chance to sail the boat, meet Chas and get to know David better. Having grown up in dinghies at Ballyholme Yacht Club and raced keelboats in Belfast Lough, the largest yacht being a J130, I was awed with the Oyster.  Now that’s what I call luxury! On arrival in Alghero Marina, I was struck by the sheer height of the mast lit up in the marina.  Apart from the simple fact that it was a long walk from bow to stern, electric winches, flat screen TVs and a dishwasher, it was just like the other boats I had raced (not!).  I really enjoyed the short delivery from Sardinia to Cannes – the boat trucked along nicely, doing 10 knots boat speed in 15 knots apparent wind.  K8’s Captain Jarrod Cripps gave me a guided tour of the workings of the boat and his wife Floss gave me a run down on everything below deck. During the trip we managed to hoist the pink asymmetric spinnaker in light winds and that’s when it struck home just how big everything is – hoisting a spinnaker 100 feet up a mast is hard work between four of you. Sailing the boat was delightful and with all the modern gizmos to make life easier, I was in my element! I did ask David if we would be able to use the washing machine on the Atlantic crossing – he replied that “probably not since it used a lot of water”. Oh dear, washing by hand? During the ARC we did not use the dishwasher since it was a great place for storage of provisions!

Since I had never visited Cannes before, I was bedazzled by the massive luxury yachts and disappointed with the orange ‘easy’ cruise ship.  On arrival in Cannes we dropped anchor and played with some of K8’s toys – donuts and speed boats!  Cannes was very pleasant at that time of year and we lapped up some of the lifestyle and visited the Irish pub. We had rather a late night and suffered the next day whilst preparing K8 to bring her up to ‘boat show precision’. Upon return home to Bangor, I then gave DT a detailed de-brief about the boat. He had insisted I take pictures of everything, including the engine and under the saloon seats! All this added to our eager anticipation of ARC 2006.

David was well organised and before we left the UK, we knew exactly what to bring and of course we ordered our team clothing. Simple things like a personal drinking bottle, a pen drive to store photos, travel insurance etc. He stated what our aim of the ARC was – top 10 finish, top 15 on handicap and top 2 in Oyster fleet; and to all finish as friends. All realistic and competitive goals which suited DT and I. The watches were discussed and it was agreed that the three ‘old’ chums would be on watch together along with myself. Jarrod and Floss, Alan, Chas and Neil were on the other watch.  We used the four hour watch system with dog watch of 1600-1800 hours and 1800-2000 hours. This worked a treat and everyone quickly settled down into the routine.

ARC 2006 was not David and DT’s first – they had completed the ARC ten years previously on Kealoha 5, a Moody 42. Along with Les Holliday plus a novice and a diver, they completed the course in good time finishing 7th in class.  At that time DT was tight on time and only arrived a few days prior to the start, so he suggested that I go out to K8 early and give a hand with prepping the boat for the trip.  This was a great experience and really added to my overall enjoyment of the ARC. I had picked our berth on the boat, so apart from Jarrod and Floss, was the other married couple. No I didn’t put David out of his Master cabin we opted for the smaller guest cabin with flat screen tv!  I wasn’t too sure how DT and I would sleep whilst sailing, since we would both be on the same watch together. As it turned out the lee cloths proved very useful.

On arrival at Las Palmas I asked the taxi driver to take me to the biggest lit up mast on the Texaco garage pier. I was almost correct, the only problem was that it was the mast of a 100 footer. So we weren’t the biggest boat. As it turned out we were a few berths down and in the company of some awesome yachts.

The next day Floss and I traipsed around the area of Triana looking for the nearest supermarket, but unfortunately my sense of direction is not great so we walked about 10 miles and never really finding the centre of the town! We both decided the next time we would just get a taxi into Las Palmas town centre to do our provisioning.

The build up to the ARC was super – just being a part of the sailing fraternity who were all thrown together in the harbour was great. Attending lectures on provisioning and sextant use were fascinating plus it also gave you a chance to meet and chat with fellow sailors. There was an incredible amount of safety equipment on board and we were kitting out the grab bags to be stowed on deck. There were two bags so Floss and I decided we’d have a ‘girly’ bag, so tied a pink ribbon onto the handle of one. We put in extra chocolate, lipstick, nice smelly soap, hairbrush and a magazine. Any of the gentlemen were welcome to come into our liferaft, but only if they could put up with us.

Since David had appointed me as ‘Social Convenor’ I had to live up to my title, so managed to do a bit of networking; ie talking to crews and finding the best pubs to go to.  One of the best crews we met up with was the young team on board the Oyster 61 ‘Sea Eagle’. Tash and her crew were a lovely bunch with an average age of 23, so we managed to teach them how to party harder!  There were welcome parties, happy hours, cocktail and boat parties – plenty of opportunities to socialise with the other crews. One of the highlights was Pedro’s dinghy race – Jarrod and I joined in with the other 100 dinghies and got pelted with soggy maize, water balloons and anything else soggy and yucky that could be chucked. Jarrod and I reckon we ‘almost’ won the race, we were pretty far in front and were able to paddle the blow up canoe pretty quickly. As we came alongside K8 to have out pictures taken, David turned the hose on us and added to our maize mix.

The boat was continually being checked and prepared for the ARC – the Oyster team were great and we got to know them quite well. A dedicated bunch that worked long hours, missed dinner reservations and always came on board with a smile on their faces. We had a problem with our autopilot and David had visions of ARC 1997 when the autopilot broke down on the first night at sea! After several days and umpteen sea trials where the boat continued to go round in circles, it was eventually sorted.

The provisioning was a major part of the build up to the ARC. Floss and I managed to get away with only three trips to El Corte Ingles – a trolley each was our limit. The great thing about El Corte Ingles is that they deliver and the fresh food is particularly good. We did suss out the local market, but the fruit and veg looked ‘tired’. It’s great fun spending someone else’s money, so this chore was not too painful for me!  I also got a great insight into on-board eating and learnt lots from Floss’s experience. Once the food was delivered it was washed, labels removed and tins marked and stowed for the trip. The only hiccup in the food delivery was that we received over 100 tomatoes too many no onions, whereas ‘Tillymint’ received 100 onions and no tomatoes! David’s nephew Chas was delegated the task of painting the Kealoha 8 wall mural since we reckoned he had the most artistic talent. Chas was the youngest member of our crew, and he took great delight in everyone admiring his artwork and his pecs!

The remaining crew arrived out four days prior to the start of the race and after that it was all go.  We managed to fit in a short shake down sail before the start of the race, but no spinnaker hoist. We all had an early night before the start on Sunday. The boat was stowed and tidied and we left the harbour to the sounds of brass bands playing.  We played our battle anthem trying to blast out the competition who were playing pop and rock whilst we played a hymn! The harbour was bunged with onlookers and all the boats got a great farewell from the locals. The start line was created from a cruise ship at one end, with a large wind shadow, and a buoy at the other end that we never quite found!  We had decided on a conservative, mid line start, so didn’t hoist our pink asymmetric spinnaker until we had cleared our air and there was less congestion. It was a wonderful memorable sight seeing over 200 boats setting off at once. After a few hours the fleet had spread out and by the time we came to the south end of the island the fleet was choosing which route to take – steer clear of the lee of the island or take the direct route. They always say that the ARC route is to sail south until the butter melts and then head west.

Our first sunset lived up to expectations and with the wind blowing 12-18 knots from the north east, we trucked along nicely. As the wind freed, we changed to the big turquoise spinnaker. This was the first time many of us had seen the big yin and at 4000 sq feet, it was twice the size of our house!  We started our watch system at 2000 hours. During that first evening there no moon and it was surprisingly black.  We followed a stern light and had a light to windward, but after that first night we did not see another boat until the approaches to St Lucia. That night I reckoned I saw a fantastic shooting star over Africa. The first few nights sleep were fitful with your mind racing – was the boat broaching or just heeling; the grinding of the winches; thankfully no one on board was sick and everyone remained hale and hearty throughout the trip.

Day 2 of the ARC saw us broad reaching with surfing boat speeds up to 11 knots. The wheel was heaving in the following sea and the helms were steering on instruments, which was new to me – having always used land as bearings previously. We spotted a lonesome Petrel but no dolphins or flying fish. K8 did the first radio net since the allotted boat was unable to do so. Since Alan Marshall was our ‘master mariner’ having spent many years at sea, he was designated navigator and radioman.  It was a delight to watch and listen to Alan do his jobs so efficiently even though he did once say “over and out”! During the radio net, it was difficult getting replies from boats, we didn’t know if this was due to a poor signal or them wanting to keep their position unknown. We only managed to get 20 replies out of a possible 50 boats. We also found out that ARC had not received our emails, so K8 and 20 others were listed as “missing”. Slightly worrying for friends and family at home.

We had our first roast dinner the second night out and Floss made us a great roast chicken dinner with all the trimmings. It amazed me how she managed to juggle everything and still produce the meal. On once occasion Floss was serving out the roast beef dinner when a spinnaker drop was called for. By this time we were trying to juggle the plates and keep them in one place with the food not on the floor! About an hour later we settled down to eating our dinner. We ate in watches and it was always nicer to be eating after coming off watch – you could take your time and appreciate the good food. If you were going on watch you tended to bolt your dinner down to get on deck to relieve the other watch.

We tended to drop the spinnaker when the winds were gusting over 25 but inevitably there were times when we were roaring along in 30 knots of breeze with the boat stable and everyone enjoying themselves. That was when it was really hard work snuffing the kite. In general it took us 20 minutes to snuff the kite and inevitably this was nearly always done in the dark. With the spinnaker down we goose-winged the genoa and in 20+ knots wind speed were still averaging 10+ knots boat speed. We tended to use the autopilot whilst white sailing and this gave the watches additional rest since only two bodies were needed on watch, whilst with a spinnaker up four were always needed.

I was on watch with hubby DT, David H and Cobby. David and Cobby were great helms and DT and I trimmed the spinnaker. During a four hour watch we ‘spelled’ each other every 30 mins – the drivers found the wheel very physical at times and trimmers were getting cricks in their neck. I tried many different positions, trimming from windward, leeward, lying down etc. Still got a crick in my neck and achy shoulders!  David and Cobby both loved to helm the boat and since she handled so beautifully, just like a 40 footer; they were always fighting to get back onto the wheel when the 30 minutes were up. They had it timed down to the nearest second! Sailing a boat this size at times is just like a 40 footer. Sitting on the bow trying to dangle our toes into the water, you see a wave and urge the boat forwards hoping she’ll surf down the waves. Then you remember that 55 tonnes of boat does not ‘surf’, the waves just glide past her. Oh well, it felt good anyway – especially seeing the water temperature 26° on 1st December.

We had plenty of drama on Day 3 – the wind had dropped and we were about to hoist the turquoise spinnaker when we found a ‘T’ shaped tear near the foot of the sail. We did a rapid and remarkable repair with spray glue, the Daily Mail, Homepride Flour and matching sailcloth. We hoisted the sail and all stood back to admire our handiwork – pretty effective. Just when it was starting to get dark and the off watch crew were having bangers and mash, there was a loud bang. The snuffer shackle had opened and down came the spinnaker, leaving the snuffer up the mast.  Jarrod quickly turned the boat head to wind and all hands gathered the spinnaker – actually it was just a case of lying about the foredeck with crispy turquoise sail cloth all around.  We found another tear, did another quick repair and since we had no snuffer we ingeniously ‘tied’ the sail with masking tape. The sail was re-hoisted with a lot of grunting of crew power helped along with great dead downwind steering from Cobby. All in all a pretty hectic day but starting to get warmer with more moonlight. Cobby complained that at night he was getting “moon-burn”, so needed “moon glasses” and “moon-cream”!

With all the up-to-date navigation instruments on board it was a delight to track approaching squalls on the radar, plot the competitors’ progress and see Africa on the chart plotter. The squalls came at dawn and dusk, just when you were least expecting them.  We had some real beauties track down either side of us on the radar and just miss us. It was a difficult call – do we drop the spinnaker or grin and bear it?  We didn’t get ourselves into too much trouble but it was frustrating to drop sails and then find the squalls missed you.  Mind you, some squalls caught us out – three days from St Lucia, we had two broaches on whites. During those broaches we lost a diesel can and Cobby lost his washing overboard!  On the other hand there was the DVDs – what’s better than watching “Pirates of the Caribbean II” in 25 knots of wind with popcorn served at the interval! As Cobby told Nora – “No, I’m not going on holiday – I’m going racing. Here I am watching a bl**dy DVD mid Atlantic!”

Every few days we put the clocks back one hour and both watches did an extra half hour during the ‘dog watch’. This was one of the most social times of the day with all the crew up and about. During that time we would start off with afternoon tea where we managed to demolish David’s Mum, Joan’s fruit cakes; then have Happy Hour at 1800 hours. Happy hours consisted of presentations by David H to crew members for different achievements. Cards were presented to crews for either the worst matching t-shirt and shorts, or outstanding crew work! Alan’s birthday took place during the trip and we managed to produce party balloons, face masks and of course a birthday cake!  We even broke out the champagne at the half way point in true Oyster fashion and celebrated with bow ties and silly hats. Towards the end of our passage, Alan composed a great Calypso song – “We’re On Our Way to Rodney Bay”. We typed up song sheets and all tunelessly sang along accompanied by maracas made from plastic bottles filled with pasta and rice.

Life on board was obviously very comfortable and the crew was all getting along well. The two watches were competing with each other to see who could get the most mileage in during their four hour watch, so this kept the boat at optimum speed. The turquoise spinnaker repairs were starting to show fatigue, so we changed to the pink asymmetric and still maintained great boat speed. We poled her out and she acted just like the symmetrical spinnaker – and she was pink and pretty!  She loved running deep and in 25 knots wind speed we were getting 12 knots boat speed – champagne sailing.  By this stage we were using 400 litres of water and running the generator for 8 hours a day. The boat was becoming humid and the air conditioning made sleep more comfortable.

Still little sign of wildlife – more flying fish appearing on the deck and the tail and spout of a whale was spotted briefly. A gannet style bird, possibly a Booby was circling the boat and we thought that he was chasing flying fish and was disturbed by our passage. We were always looking out for dolphins, but have not seen anything. With continuous sailing the wear and tear on the boat was immense and during the day there were plenty of jobs to be done. Jarrod taught DT how to repair a damaged spinnaker foreguy trapped in the electric winch.  He used Jarrod’s Swedish fids along with lots of advice and the end result was about 15% down in strength due to a damaged core, but a very satisfied DT and a reasonable looking job.  We had more foredeck drama when the guy slipped and came off the end of the pole. It went off with a real bang and the off watch crew came scrambling up on deck bleary eyed. We dropped the kite and went to whites for the rest of the night. In daylight we saw the real damage we had done to the pulpit and the port guard rails. This gave a real indication of just how much power is behind everything.

Two days from St Lucia we spotted the QE2’s distinctive funnels on our port beam. David called her up on the radio and had a chat with an Officer – probably the 24th Officer. She was en route to Madeira and we told them to look out for another 250 boats that would be racing across the Atlantic. He thanked us for the information said he would inform his passengers of the fleet’s progress.

As we approached St Lucia we found we were well into our routines with bonus bouts of sleep when the white sails were flying.  Appetites were diminishing in the heat and we were taking plenty of fluids. Despite the diminished appetites we still all really enjoyed the sirloin steak dinner before landfall. It was on the approach to St Lucia that we saw ‘Dark & Steamy’ skite past us with her spinnaker flying.  We spoke on the radio and discovered they were on their last spinnaker, had gone through three sets of sheets and guys and had to re-tie and use them.  She was a DK46 and no wonder they hit top speeds of 22 knots!  She finished an hour in front of us.  They were all tired and damp on board, so we christened her “Sweaty Betty”.

The last few hours before landfall we changed watches to give the helms plenty of sleep and keep them fresh for the last big push. When the wind went down below 25 knots, up went pinkie and we started putting in more gybes. Had a great cooked breakfast and all the crew put on their nice fresh crew gear for arrival.  We dropped the spinnaker and hardened up for the finish line. As we rounded Pigeon Island into Rodney Bay we saw David and Alan’s wives, Diana and Judy waving and cheering us on from the fort. We finished at 1700 hours on Saturday 9 December after 13days at sea, tied up with a great rum punch welcome from the St Lucia tourist board and the ARC organisers. We were 11th boat across the finish line, 2nd in class and won the Cable and Wireless Trophy for Line Honours in Invitation Class 7.

We all had a well deserved meal in Spinnakers Restaurant and then finished off partying in Scuttlebutts ‘till the wee small hours. Sunday was boat cleaning with severe hangovers – David had no sympathy for our self induced headaches and then we played on the beach for a couple of days before flying back to a cold UK in December.

A big thanks to David Holliday and all the crew of Kealoha 8 for such a great experience. We enjoyed it so much that we are coming back for Antigua Week and the Valencia Oyster Week!

Kealoha 8 of Southampton was officially named in a ceremony which took place in the docks adjacent to Canary Wharf, London’s new financial area. Family and friends gathered, with Guest of Honour being Joan Holliday, who named the very first Kealoha.

Diana Holliday performed the traditional ceremony by breaking a bottle of champagne across the bows, with the traditional blessing
“I name this yacht Kealoha 8 of Southampton, God bless all who sail on her”

Floss & Jarrod had laid on a great spread, so followed a riotous evening of eating drinking and dreaming of future voyages.

To view pictures of the naming ceremony click here

At least, that’s how John and I see it – just hope David and Di, Ian and Nia enjoyed it as much as we did. I’m Gill and, together with my husband John, we’ve been friends with Di and David for 30 odd years, meeting when Di and I both arrived in Bristol and worked together.

Now, Ground Rules for my account are thus: I know precious little about sailing, though I loved every minute of it and I’ve never been to the Caribbean before which probably accounts for what some would see as over-enthusiasm. (Ian, I can’t help it.)

It wasn’t exactly an auspicious start when David rang, back in October, to enquire whether John would like to see some of the World Cricket in the Caribbean in March 2007. It’s hard to speak when your teeth are gritted but it got easier when I realised Di was going and I was being invited too. Cricket instantly became my passion and I will never mention paint drying again.

March seemed to take an eternity but eventually we were off. Nobody looks forward to eight hours flying but there is so much in-flight entertainment these days, it shoots by. Last time I went long-haul, we had to hire an earpiece to see the one and only film. (OK, so you’ve guessed, I don’t get out much.)

All the bits people tell you about the Caribbean are true. Yes, the people are incredibly warm and friendly. Yes, they’re laid back (sometimes I wondered if they ever went forward) and yes, yes, the sea is deliciously warm. St Lucia immigration fitted point 2 and I did wonder if they would ever let us in but eventually we were off on the 23 mile journey to meet K8 and Ian and Nia, David’s new crew known also as The Anagrams. It would be hard to find a more spectacular location to see K8 “in action” for the first time. She was at anchor in a beautiful sweeping bay which is the setting for a five star hotel but that pales into insignificance when you see The Pitons. It’s hard to describe them. They’re a bit like two towering carbuncles rising from the land either end of the bay.

Ian arrived in the tender to collect us. Now this was another culture shock for me. My experience is limited to the sort of dinghy where you try not to sit down hard if you plan to wear those trousers ever again. I tried to be cool when this white leather-seated speed boat skimmed across the bay towards us, driven by A Man In Uniform. (If I’d have known that Ian would spend the next fortnight taking the mickey out of me, I’d have made sure I landed on both his bare feet thus starting a more balanced relationship than the one which was to follow.) But, at this point, I was in awe of everything. If you’ve been on K8, you’ll know what I mean but I’ve never sailed on a boat of her calibre, especially one you can lie out on without something sticking in you. We were about to embark on a fortnight of sheer comfort and air-conditioned luxury – as opposed to the camping-like existence my previous family sailing holidays had offered. I used to think having one of those water bags you can heat in the sun was the height of luxury.

Amazing how quickly you can stow your gear if all you want is to plunge into the sea. It was bliss – warmer than I have ever known. And then, joy on joy, we all lay and basked in the late afternoon sun with a drink. Nothing else to do except to wonder at the comfort of the accommodation, taking our time to change and just relax until dinner – a dinner I haven’t cooked! It’s a bit funny at first having things done for you on a boat – my family see me as natural galley-fodder – but, to my credit, I managed to adapt very quickly and, Nia, if you ever read this, thank you again. We thoroughly enjoyed every single meal you cooked for us. Fabulous!

David is a great planner and it was a great plan. We would move up north via Marigot Bay to Rodney Bay where the cricket was, stay there five nights, then head back south right down past St Vincent and on to the Grenadines as far as Tobago Cays.

Next morning, Wednesday, having had a wonderful breakfast (the pineapple is oh so much sweeter over there) we snorkelled and that was just brilliant: beautiful coral and fish in every size, colour and shape. Then to Marigot Bay, some 12 miles of gentle sailing in warm sunshine – perfect. It’s a really fascinating place and undergoing lots of upmarket development – sneaky feeling it may lose some of its charm. All six of us ate out that night at the Rainforest Restaurant, definitely to be recommended. And, Ian, the glass of red wine you threw over my white trousers did come out eventually – I don’t want you to worry.

By Thursday morning we were all beginning to adapt to the pace, the pottering pace. It was beginning to feel like holiday mode. Had a good look round Marigot Bay and just sat in the sun drinking a great fruit punch at The Shack. The only goal was to reach Rodney Bay and by midday we were on our way for another good sail, only two hours or so. David tried fishing and eventually hooked a barracuda. Did you know they can be poisonous? I was learning all the time and, next lesson on arrival at Rodney Bay: when it rains, it means it. Equally it stops very quickly and we were soon swimming to cool off. Dinner on boat, five star roast lamb, and then, pathetic though it sounds, bed by 10.30.

Back in October, we’d gone to great lengths to make sure we had really good tickets for the cricket but we needn’t have bothered. By mid–morning Friday, they were letting local schools fill up the empty seats for the England v NZ game. Even our expensive tickets had not guaranteed us shade. It was horribly hot and John and David agreed it was deadly dull and we couldn’t wait for it to finish, the prospect of a cooling swim was much too inviting. Not only that, we were off to street party that evening. And what an experience that turned out to be: genuine carnival, not just something dreamed up to fleece the tourists – it was packed with locals, eating, drinking, dancing – just partying really – the atmosphere was tremendous. We tried all sorts of local food but, in truth, their barbecuing techniques leave a bit to be desired. What we would have given for a Nia meal!

Saturday was just a day to savour – perfect warm weather with a soft breeze – swimming, snorkelling, climbing Pigeon Island with all it’s military history. It’s got Holliday history as well, this is where Diana and her sister stood to welcome home K8 after the ARC a few months before. Nia cooked some Red Snapper we had bought. It looked amazing – completely different when it’s freshly caught – and it tasted divine. We managed to stay awake long enough to try a game of trivial pursuits but we weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just rubbish questions that made it so ridiculous.

Tough luck chaps! Sunday, John and David had more tickets for the cricket, this time England v Canada. (Yes, Canada does play cricket, though fortunately none too well.) Di and I were off to the Rain Forest. This is amazing and a must if you have even the tiniest interest in ecology. It’s great how they have set the trip up. They picked us up from the marina and we saw lots of the countryside and just ordinary people living their lives. There’s something like an open ski-lift cabin that takes you all the way up and eventually above the canopy. The guide was a beautiful young local girl who’d obviously undergone a lot of training and was very knowledgeable.

Ah yes, this was the evening of an amazing coincidence. We had all been admiring a Bristol Cutter moored quite near us. David went over for a chat and returned with news that the couple sailing her knew John and me (always unnerving!) and they’d come for a drink later. In fact, they came from the same village outside Bristol where we’d lived for many years and latterly we had seriously considered buying their house. They’d sold up, moved to Devon and had this beautiful thing built for them to sail whenever and wherever they chose. OK, so I’m green with envy.

God, Monday morning was a bit of a shock. Imagine a February day at sea in the English channel: grey seas, heavy skies, limited visibility and raining – and the boat was moving when John and I came round. A great result though. David and Diana had woken early and decided that we might as well use the time to put some miles under our belt and so, with a bleary-eyed Ian at the helm, we had set sail for Bequia at 6 a.m. We did 68 fantastic miles – this was such a great sail, good wind, gradually improving weather, with K8 going like a rocket.

Port Elizabeth is a small town (though that might be adding a sophistication it definitely didn’t have) in Admiralty Bay on Bequia. It’s just delightful because it’s so endearingly quirky and “home made”. We went into the local fruit and veg market and I cleverly managed to buy a selection of fruits for double the price he was offering. Takes great skill, that. Today’s rum punches were taken in the bar Mick Jagger frequents. No, honestly, it is true. Dinner back on board was a delicious thai curry which Nia buys from a lady in Antigua. We were fast reaching a stage where we were going to bed earlier every night, so for our own self-esteem, we thought we should try to watch a DVD. By 9.30 the four of us were all dozing in the saloon, much to the amusement of Ian and Nia. Face reality, chaps, we’re getting older.

Slept forever, or so it seemed. Off to Mustique today but not until we’d taken delivery of some great photos taken of K8 sailing the previous day. I’m glad the photographer printed the location on them. It looks more like we’re somewhere off Stornaway. Today is Caribbean weather, all warm sun and gentle breeze. We stopped off on a fabulous little uninhabited island straight out of a travel brochure, all palm trees, white sand and turquoise sea – and then on to Mustique. You can see how it’s achieved its reputation – there are the most amazing houses built all along the hillside and it is just paradise. We watched this massive orange sunset from Basil’s, a fashionable waterside bar, rum punch in hand (no surprise there then) and that is the only word for it, paradise. Did well, all of us managed to stay awake until 10.30.

What is it with this weather? It was quite a grim start and we had spent the night rocking. Scuppered our plans for a sightseeing trip round Mustique – celebrity-home spotting. But it did mean we could make an early start for Mayreau and by the time we arrived around 10 o’clock, it was brighter and, by 11, it was glorious. We spent a heavenly day snorkelling, sunning ourselves, eating (delicious duck, Nia) and supping. We even managed half an hour of a DVD before caving in.

Now, if we thought Mayreau and Mustique were stunning, nothing prepared us for Tobago Cays. David had been before and was keen for Di to see it. This is where you will probably think I am going over the top but it made Mustique looking ordinary. Imagine this vast horseshoe-shaped expanse of coral with every shade of turquoise stretching in bands across the seas, broken only by the white of the waves crashing in from the Atlantic. Then imagine all these tiny uninhabited islands in every direction with nothing but white, white sand and palm trees and lush greenery. Then add a background of warm sunshine and big white fluffy clouds. It is just heaven. Don’t imagine though it was just us, communing with nature, there were about 30 other boats, mostly large and expensive looking. But it doesn’t matter, it’s such a huge space, you can ignore everybody else if you want. It just has to be the ultimate playground. Decide: do you want to swim, snorkel, turtle-watch or just laze around. Any option will be divine. Even by Caribbean standards, the snorkelling is rated at the top and that’s what we wanted to do most. The array of fish and coral we saw was breathtaking. By sun-down, we were ready for our drinks (should we start to worry about just how ready we have become?) A perfect day, followed by a perfect dinner – what more could we want? An early night!

Tobago Cays was just as awesome when we came up from below on Friday morning. If someone had told me I would be snorkelling at 8 a.m., I’d had laughed, but that’s what we did. The best session was later but it did test David’s dinghy skills getting off the leeward shore surrounded by rocks but, as usual, he managed it comfortably. Yet another co-incidence, a banker David did business with some years before recognised him and came across. How did Lord Lucan ever get away with it?

Leaving The Cays later in the day was like an admission of being on the way home and Canouan was a bit of a disappointment. Maybe returning to inhabitation was always going to be a let-down but it was not particularly welcoming to boats. Nevertheless, we felt duty bound to test the rum punch and that lived up to expectations. We were ready for our dinner and getting used to be spoilt by Nia’s cooking. I’m ashamed to say we settled for an early night again – you have no idea how tired this sailing lark makes you.

The best sail so far on this fantastic boat was after breakfast on Saturday, taking us four hours to reach Bequia. There were quite big seas running but K8 just seems to toss them aside and slide through them. We spent our time on the look out for dolphins and turtles, with a remote hope of seeing a whale No whale, but we did see a pod of dolphins en route and we added this count to the two more turtles Dave and Di saw in The Cays.

This time there were no boat boys vying to take our lines when we arrived in Port Elizabeth. It was odd, we had got used to gentle hassle from guys trying to sell us any manner of things but it was strangely deserted. Turns out they are all round the other end of the bay, celebrating the catching of a whale and helping to cut it up. Apparently, it’s quite a party especially as each island is only allowed to catch three a year. So much for conservation.

There’s a turtle sanctuary on Bequia and we went to it on an open-back truck with the driver offering us a guided-tour en route.The guided part turned out to be him leaning out of the cab and shouting at us! This is the thing about the locals, they just see things differently.

“Brother King” who runs the turtle sanctuary is an enthusiastic character, clearly passionate about conserving the Hawks Bill turtle which is being souped into extinction. He picks up the babies a few weeks after they hatch and brings them through various tanks until they reach 2 years or so when he releases them on different islands. He reckons most of them won’t survive but, because conservation is becoming more of an issue, maybe some of them will live to enjoy real protection, not just the lip service there is now.

It seems a bit hypocritical that we all had dinner after the turtle sanctuary at a lobster restaurant of the pick-and-eat variety. But maybe, post-rum punch, we didn’t connect the two things!

Sunday and we were on St Vincent in the “Pirates of the Caribbean” location, Wallilabou Bay. Most of the sets are still there and you can see why this was the chosen location. It is quite spectacular. The local kids use it as a water park and it was fun watching them. There’s lot of boat boys touting all sorts and we engaged one to take us on foot to the waterfalls without any conviction that it was A Good Idea. These guys look pretty scarey and here we were trotting off behind him into the unknown. In the event, he turned out to be very sweet and quite knowledgeable; anything you could eat, he knew about; birds and wildlife, not a clue. It’s such a contradiction, you feel you are in the middle of jungle then some local comes tearing round the corner in a surprisingly up-market truck. Our guide had clearly cut a deal with the local waterfront bar run by one of life’s characters, a one-time film extra, Tony, and that’s where he delivered us. As a newly qualified expert on rum punches of the Caribbean, I should warn you that one in Tony’s bar is enough. Use the other one to wash any open wounds. Sadly, we all had two – but we had enough sense to come back to the boat and have dinner. Tony, however, devastated by our departure, spent the evening doing karaoke on a microphone exalting us to join his party. A quick check on the bins by Ian proved that the party was Tony and, yes, you’ve guessed, Tony. But a visit to Tony is not to be missed – it was hilarious.

Last whole day, we made every part of Monday count. We moved up the island a couple of bays to Chateaubelair – a tiny town of sorts on the shore of a huge sweeping bay. This is another of the plusses with K8. You can get off the beaten track. The bay is not wonderful for mooring, something to do with the swell but K8 can cope and with the fast tender, we were able to anchor in a nice sheltered bit well off shore. The plan was to go the Darveo falls. All I said to Ian was that perhaps we could find somewhere to have a coffee while we sorted it out and he fell about laughing. Was I expecting Starbucks, he enquired. I did have to see his point. Clearly not a magnet for tourists, we found just one place claiming to be a bar. David, the ultimate negotiator, was soon on first name terms with Francoise, the owner, who agreed to make us some coffee – apparently not a frequent request. He eventually reappeared triumphantly with a battered kettle full of hot water, a small dodgy looking jar of Nescafe, a half used tin of Carnation milk, a selection of wet beer mugs and, incongruously, a fine bone china cup, chipped of course! Whilst we made our drinks he organised his mate to taxi us to the falls. Think about the oldest, most battered Nissan you can imagine, then double it, and that is about the level of the heap his mate rocked up in. To boot, he had a handpainted sign on the rear announcing that he was The Baddest Man. From the look of him, we were prepared to believe it but we climbed in anyway. He seemed quite pleased to see us and we learned all about him and his family and we didn’t mind getting out and walking the bits where the exhaust bottomed out! When we eventually reached these remote falls, there in the middle of all this rain forest-like greenery was a solitary man, playing the steel drums. That’s the whole thing about the Caribbean, you never know what to expect.

On the way back we had to move over to let by an air-conditioned people carrier also going to the falls, with passengers from one of the cruise liners, so our man told us. I couldn’t help contrasting our trip ashore to the falls, with all its sense of ridiculous adventure and fun, with their sanitised experience. Eat your heart out Cunard!

No more time, we sailed back to The Pitons, our last lovely sail. Best bit, we saw one, maybe two whales. OK, so we didn’t exactly eye-ball them but they were definitely whales.

Dinner at The Dasheed was not only a spectacular location, looking down from on high through the darkness into the bay with Kealoha looking stunning, illuminated by her spreader lights, but the food and music were fabulous – a fitting finale.

Does everybody wake up on their final holiday morning, with a confusion of thoughts of home and responsibilities crowding in again? We had had a blissful fortnight of sheer fun and enjoyment, seen some spectacular places and enjoyed the company of lovely people. David and Diana are the greatest fun to be with, wonderful hosts, and we are truly grateful to them. Ian and Nia, what can we say? You have looked after us fantastically and we are in awe of your amazing range of skills. To you both and to the remarkable K8, we wish you fair winds and many years of happy sailing.

Roger, the resident oyster journalist, who sailed with us for the last race wrote:

Having finished in light air the previous day, it was with some surprise the Oyster fleet awoke on Sunday to a fresh breeze. The sou’wester was back, not with the same vengeance that had blown the fleet to Cabrera on Friday, but with a steady 15 plus knots at the start. At the morning roll call, many skippers opted for spinnakers and MPS with obvious relish. Thus far, it had been a white sails regatta.

Alan Brook set up the start under the vertical, 200-foot rise of Cap des Llamp, just east of the entrance to Andraitx. The seas were large enough to wash completely over the saloon windows of the new Oyster 72 I was on – KEALOHA, owned by David Holliday – as we motored around the corner. But this day the sun was bright, the sky clear, and the tossing Mediterranean that eerie electric blue that bears its name.

The course followed the coastline east to Palma, with a finish off the harbour entrance. The first “leg” was a blast reach. Then sheets would be eased twice as the coast bent north toward Palma.

Holliday, who cut his sailing teeth in Mirror dinghies, got a fine start in the middle of the line, a good two boat lengths ahead of his arch rival in this regatta, LUSKENTRE, another 72 owned by Mark Blythe. We liked that, since LUSKENTYRE is faster than KEALOAH by virtue of a carbon spar, a fully battened main, and a few other details. It was good to make them play catch up.

Unlike previous regattas here in Palma, the previous three days had offered wonderful sailing. But this was the best yet. All the boats were flying along with the wind abeam. And the sea state offered a better ride than the reach to Cabrera. This was a day all sailors would cherish.

On KEALOHA the speedo never dropped below nine knots. At the first course change off El Toro light, we eased sheets but opted to wait to set our jenniker until the jibe coming up at Cap de Cala Figuera. And that’s probably where LUSKENTYRE got us. They set their big orange spinnaker and began to pull away. Ours went up within five minutes, and we held our range on them after that, but the damage had been done.

Jibing a light sail on an Oyster 72 in full flight with a friendly crew of six (LUSKENTYRE) or even the ten we had on board KEALOHA, will get your heart started. The forces involved on a boat this large are awesome. The wind was now gusting to 25. One proceeds with caution. LUSKENTYRE jibed before us without incident. After discussion, we decided not to snuff the sail in its sock, but simply jibe it by letting it flow across in front of the boat. It worked well, and soon we were again flying toward the finish line registering speeds over 12 knots. LUSKENTYRE saved her time on us by less than a minute.

At the dock afterwards David Holliday and Mark Blythe were wired with the excitement of the last few hours of exhilarating sailing. Blythe popped champagne. He and David drank several toasts to the Oyster 72, each other, their crews, and to more memorable races of the sort they had just enjoyed.

Gathered stern-to around the docks at Real Club Nautico, the whole fleet was buzzing with the electricity that such sailing can produce. Thanks to a whole lot of wind accompanied by mild temperatures, elegant dinners and parties in unique surroundings – and oh yes, reliable boats that perform – the Montpelier Oyster Regatta, Palma 2006, was one for the books.

The crew for the week excelled themselves, sailing, partying, giving and accepting challenges from other boats.

To view pictures of the Montpelier Oyster Regatta click here