Left stunning St. Barths in our wake, originally aiming for a quick pit stop in Nevis—but didn’t realize check-in was required, so had to reroute. We blasted out of St. Barths with full sails up, no reef in, and wind right on the edge of manageable. Then—bam—a surprise squall rolled in hard and fast. 😬 No time to reef. Adam stayed on the helm, hand steering to spill wind as we flew along. That squall shifted everything—changed our plan from passing in front of St. Kitts to ducking behind it. Once in its lee, the wind turned unpredictable: swirling, gusting, then disappearing. With Nevis off the table, we had to bash into the wind for 3 hours just to reach tonight’s anchorage. Tomorrow’s forecast? More wind and waves as we push on to Montserrat for another quick stop, then on to Guadeloupe. Kinda wishing we just kept charging to Guadeloupe—we were cruising steady at 8+ knots, and even hit 12 while surfing a wave. Though if I'm being honest, I'm not such a fan of increased wind and waves. I miss Bahama bopping around.

We set off from St. Martin for a sporty sail to St. Barths, double-reefed and ready—but quickly realized we could shake one out. Some lines snagged in the process, so we dropped the mainsail, rehoisted it, and noticed a sail car had come loose from the sail. After dropping it again, Adam grabbed his repair kit and, with some swift lashing, had us back underway in no time. It was a fast, wet ride—windier and rougher than expected, with waves tossing us like a mini rollercoaster. Not exactly a family favorite, but Adam was clearly stoked to be sailing. We arrived in a gorgeous national park anchorage in St. Barths and snagged a mooring ball—with the main still up. Aria and I didn’t have it rigged quite right, and in the scramble, Adam’s finger got caught and smashed against the anchor/chain plate. One crushed middle finger later, we were secured and grateful to kill the engines and take a breath, even with the gusty wind still whipping around us. Now happily moored in this stunning spot with a ridiculous amount of turtles, fish and spotted eagle rays. We’re taking an extra night to regroup and map out the next legs of our journey south with SeaBella. It's been so nice to have a buddy boat heading the same way!

We knew sailing to St. Martin would be a challenge, after all, we’re still working our way down the thorny path. What was supposed to be 82 miles turned into 100+, with tacks and slow progress into headwinds and lumpy seas. We left Prickly Pear Island at sunrise. One buddy left about an hour before us which was great, feeding us conditions. Our other buddy boat had engine issues but managed to get underway, so we were all a bit spread out. At least we were truly sailing—not motoring—but motion sickness hit hard. Poor Harbor broke his puke record (again). Lesson learned: meds and meals first before letting them fall back asleep. Midway, we had to reef and discovered our starboard engine was revving but not engaging. Adam worked his magic and got us back in action. There were bright spots—dolphins, clear skies, and a few stretches of smooth sailing that reminded me why Adam loves this life so much. We crawled in around 12:30 AM, both engines grinding at 3.5–4 kts, but we made it. Hook’s down. Harbor's wide awake, hungry and ready for some TV 😅 while the rest of the family is ready for sleep! BVI -> St. Martin: officially checked off the list.

The Baths were straight-up a playground—climbing wild rock formations and dipping into crystal-clear turquoise water made it tough to pull away. But the relentless wrap-around swell and crazy ass tour boats made the decision easier. Time to move on. We aimed for Leverick Bay at first, but one look at the chop pounding the mooring field had us thinking, Yeah...No! So we darted across the channel to Prickly Pear Island instead. Anchoring there was a win—great holding, close to shore, and finally some relief from the constant motion. Afternoon vibes were on point: tubing, beach lounging, and later, dinner at the Bitter End Yacht Club. Total win. Bobin, SeaBella, and Kaikoa hit happy hour, laughed too loud, and had an all around great freaking time. Had no idea we'd meet so many rad families while sailing. Sailing is no longer for the old and retired. All ages, all doing the damn thing!

Chasing Shelter - We pulled out of Willy T’s aiming for Cooper Island to hide from some wind. But as we rolled up, the mooring field had one lonely ball left—and with SeaBella, Bobin, and Kaikoa all hoping to stick together, it wasn’t happening. Between the gusts and no real protection, we decided to keep going and headed toward the Baths. We found a spot at Little Trunk Bay, which ended up being a pretty awesome surprise. The rock formations were wild, and the houses built into the island actually looked like they belonged—super cool and not at all an eyesore. We had two great (but bouncy) nights there. Perfect spot for exploring. Harbor did hot laps in his kayak, Adam and Aria were freediving off the sugar scoops, and I was happily parked on the trampoline with a breeze. The next day, we dinked over to explore and walk the trail. Seriously—what a place. We didn’t really want to leave, but sleep was calling. It felt like we were sailing... while on anchor. Highlight of the BVI'S for sure.

We said goodbye to Cruz Bay and checked into the BVIs, setting our course for none other than Willy T’s. Had the jib out for a hot minute—until the wind said nope—so we furled it up and motored straight into the wind (which seems to be our MO). We picked up a mooring ball not far from the legendary floating bar, ticking one more stop off the list. While soaking up sunshine and listening to some tunes aboard Kaikoa, we spotted a surprise buddy boat pulling in—instant bonus! Soon enough, our crews (Kaikoa & Bobin) were headed to check out Willy T’s together. At first, the kids weren’t totally sold on the vibe (or the top-deck shenanigans… yes, a few bums were spotted). But after watching a few jumps off the upper deck, they were all in. It quickly turned into nonstop laps of climbing up, leaping off, and racing back for more. A few drinks, a million cannonballs, and a whole lot of laughs later, we made it back to our boats—just in time to miss the real party when things got a little more R-rated. Def a good time had by all crew members.

Something funny happened a couple days ago on the beach. This weathered beach guy—definitely the “local legend” type—was wading through the water, telling us how he landed here from California ages ago and just...never left. We’re still not sure if he lives on the beach or on a boat, but he and Adam had this mellow exchange, full of California love. At one point, he casually mentioned, “Every two weeks, the dolphins come into the bay.” Then he chuckled and added, “They’ll be here tomorrow.” We all kind of laughed it off—like, sure they will. But guess what? The vagabond dude was right. The past few days in Brewers Bay have been nothing short of magical. With our buddy boat SeaBella we had the most unforgettable experience: swimming with two dolphins right off the bow of our catamaran. Not just spotting them—we touched them. One kept circling us, brushing up against us, inviting us to play. It nudged Adam the same way our dog Kai used to when he wanted belly rubs. It was surreal. We hadn’t planned on anything like this—it just happened, naturally! Just the day before, we were swimming with turtles and lounging on the beach. It honestly feels like a dream. We’re so deeply grateful for this wild, beautiful life we’re living. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this is what our boat life would look like. Sure, we planned to move aboard and visit faraway places—but we couldn’t have grasped the magic of this life. A couple nights ago, a hammerhead was chasing fish just off the bow of another boat we know in the anchorage. Now we’re seeing turtles regularly, and the dolphins are back again. We even grabbed some GoPro footage—though it needs serious trimming before we can post it (every clip is like 10 minutes long!). Headed for Christmas Cove—everyone says it’s amazing, though it can get a bit crowded. Hoping for some sunshine, clear water, and maybe even a slice from Pizza Pi Vi! Let’s go!

Just rounded the corner to Brewers Bay, St. Thomas. We had a sweet spot anchored right up against the seawall in Charlotte Amalie—perfect for some land time. Smashed a burger at Tap & Still, wandered the old ferry buildings where supplies used to roll in, and got scooped up by a cruiser couple who's been living here for a few years. They gave us the local tour, complete with "world famous" banana daiquiris and epic island views. Swam alongside folks on fancy vacations at a waterfront hotel and bar, then kicked back with our buddy boat SeaBella. This was supposed to be a quick stop, but with mail call delays, weather windows, and island time in full effect, we’re staying longer than planned. Gonna have to skip some cool spots to make our July 2nd haul-out date—but until then, it’s all about soaking up sun, swimming in that dreamy blue water, and spotting turtles along the way.

We officially made it across the Mona Passage! We left the Dominican Republic around 7:30 AM, fully aware it was going to be a motor-fest—and that’s exactly what we needed and wanted. The Mona Passage, part of the infamous Thorny Passage, has a reputation for being a thorn in your...well, you know. True to form, it didn’t disappoint. Imagine a roller coaster: you're stoked, adrenaline pumping, you're all prepped for the climb. But most coasters happen during daylight—you can see what’s coming. Now, picture doing that in the dead of night, when Windy promised calm conditions but SPOILER ALERT—the forecast was wildly wrong. That roller coaster suddenly feels a lot scarier when you can't see the drops coming! 😳 Sailing at night isn't my jam (yet), but we're working on it. The Good Stuff: - No massive squalls, lightning, or a soaked cockpit 🙌 - Picked up a sweet 1-2 knot current boost after our waypoint turn - Easy entrance into Puerto Real—light winds kissed us onto the fuel dock - Buddy-boating! Fun chats over WhatsApp helped pass the hours - Kids rallied after some seasickness - Woke up to a beautiful view of Puerto Rico and nearby islands - Full appetites returned once the seas calmed (kids were starving) - New audiobook helped speed up my watch despite feeling gross (The Road of Bones by Islay Jacobs) - Adam caught a double rainbow sighting 🌈🌈 - Dodged every squall (lucky) - No snagged fishing lines or nets The Not-So-Great Parts: - Nighttime roller coaster vibes + washing machine slosh = less than ideal - Hull slapping loudly—more annoying than dangerous but still jarring - Serious sleep deprivation for Adam and me - Brutal 2-point current against us at times; crawling at 3.5 knots on one engine - Windy’s wind forecast = lies. (GFS and Euro models—also lies.) - Adam’s unfortunate pizza and lime chip binge...regrets were made 😆 - Harbor was "over" the boat life! - Aria & I fought seasickness with music, peppermint oil, ReliefBand and meclazine Leaving the Dominican Republic was way harder than I expected. I completely fell in love with the country and felt like we barely scratched the surface. Highlights included: Puerto Bahia Marina and Resort (WOW), Ríncon, Límon Waterfall, Las Terrenas, and a quick trip to Los Haitises National Park (the caves and eco lodge blew us away). Our goal now: keep moving East with the weather toward Grenada (Insurance says we gotta be there by June 1st). Next stop—Boquerón for a night, then Salinas by Wednesday. We’ll rent a car, explore San Juan, and maybe sneak in a hike or waterfall if time allows. Then it's on to Vieques and Culebra.

We dropped the hook in West Turks & caicos, rocked and rolled through the night, then ripped off the bandaid and started our eastward push across the Banks. Engines on. Eyes peeled. Windy’s two models didn’t agree on anything, and we found ourselves in a windless pocket—hello, motor fest. Not the worst pace, but far from fast. Cloud cover and small chop made it tough to see that dreamy turquoise water. Once we got over the banks, we caught a few puffs of wind—but nothing consistent. Then SeaBella radioed in: their starboard engine was acting up. They were near Puerto Plata and weighing options—pull into Ocean World (35nm) or push 90nm to Samaná. We’re so glad they chose Ocean World, because the wind didn’t fill in for hours. When it finally did…whoa. Not extreme, but enough to turn the ocean into a slapping machine. Every time our boat lifted and slammed, it felt like a grenade going off. Hull slap is what they call it. The kids? Total champs. A few too many movies, but no seasickness, no tears. I can’t say the same for me—just kidding (mostly). I was white-knuckling and praying for calmer seas. Adam held it down like a rockstar, adjusting sails and riding it out. Honestly, he is the glue that kept my ish together! Things finally settled as we rounded the Cape and caught some sweet following seas. The ocean relaxed. So did I. At 2am, a rain system hugged the land and gave us a much-needed freshwater rinse. Everything was dark, quiet, and we could smell land before we ever saw it. We entered the bay, Adam snagged a 40-min nap while I played radar guard, then we navigated the channel together—finally dropping anchor around 3:50 AM. Waking up, the boat was a little rolly—but the view? Pure magic. Lush green hills, beautiful palms, and the peaceful Bahia Marina in Samaná that we will check into soon. Customs and immigration are right at the dock, and I cannot wait for a long shower, a big coffee (no underway caffeine for me), and a well-earned celebration meal. We’ll hang here for a week or two—and fingers crossed our buddies on s/v SeaBella can rejoin us so we can keep pushing toward Puerto Rico and the BVIs.

We motored from Mayaguana to the West Banks of the Turks and Caicos—decent motorsail overall. The wind was flukey, so not much help there, but now comes the fun part. We’re anchored out on the bank, and there’s a big system heading our way. Fingers crossed it just brings a nice fresh rinse for the boat and nothing more. Storms at sea? Not my favorite. Love them from solid ground. Tomorrow, we’ll push further east across the banks for another long day, getting into position to jump to Samaná—weather permitting. Excited to see and smell mountains and to get this stress of this first big leg of the thorny path outta the way!

We managed to convince our buddy boat SV SeaBella to divert to the Ragged Islands before making the hop to the Dominican Republic via Turks and Caicos. Windy was looking promising—models lining up nicely—but of course, the weather had its own ideas. We made it to Water Cay and wow, what a stunner! Wish we had made the run south sooner, but that’s cruising life. After another look at the forecast, Adam and Rob decided it was time to start easing east while we had a south wind working in our favor. The first 8 hours were dreamy—we were flying along and the vibe was high. Then, off on the horizon, we saw trouble brewing. Our friends on sv Coin Toss, about 20 miles ahead, reported two fully formed waterspouts. We spotted one way off in the distance, but luckily didn’t cross paths. From there, it was a mix: some pleasant motor sailing, a few hours of the womps and swirling currents, followed by a sweet 1.5-knot push from the current—magic. As the wind picked up, we braced for a squall, but were spared with just a few raindrops. Adam crushed it on watch—stood about 97% of them. Meanwhile, I’m still working on adjusting to the motion of the ocean without wanting to toss my cookies. Sailing at night is pretty rad (when it’s flat), but once the seas kicked up, I turned into a bit of a nervous nelly. The kids handled it like champs. Aria snoozed outside under the stars, and Harbor claimed the whole couch like a boss. Near the end of the passage, *SeaBella* picked up a garbled pan-pan call. They worked hard to catch the details and alerted any boats in AIS range to keep an eye out for a power cat in distress. Everyone pulled together and kept ears on the radio. We’ve now dropped the hook in Mayaguana. The water’s crystal clear with massive starfish visible from the bow and vibrant reef surrounding us. We’ll stay the night and push to Turks and Caicos tomorrow—fingers crossed it’s a smooth ride and not a butt-kicker!

We were hoping to get down to the Raggeds to chill for a bit. Had a sweet sail—crossed paths with a buddy heading the opposite way, which was a fun surprise—and ended up dropping anchor at Water Cay. Landed 3 barracudas, a barjack, and had one mystery fish break off the line. Looks like the weather’s turning more southerly, so now we’re thinking of making a beeline for Turks and Caicos, with a few pitstops along the way if needed.

Quick motor over to Hog Cut with some SE winds (15 kts) and flat seas. The kids didn’t even notice we were underway—too busy playing Oregon Trail on the Switch and watching anime. To prep we made a run to the grocery store and stocked up just in case we need to hunker down and wait out a weather window. If all goes well, we’ll use the upcoming weather shift to hop toward the DR via Turks and Caicos. Psyched to be cruising with our buddy boat, SeaBella out of Ontario. Super excited to catch a glimpse of the Raggeds, even if we’re just passing by on our way south. Cheers, B