Bookends - Thanks Be to Gom

 Yesterday, we motor sailed into a place call Deep Bay.  It is located on the far eastern edge of Virgin Gorda, the far eastern island in the BVI.  The bay sits behind a coral reef and even from the beach a half-mile away, you can see the breakers washing over the coral.  To reach this bay you have to sail through a very narrow passage by a little place called Saba Rock, or you have to snake-like sail through a coral reel area that is shallow and beautiful.

We were the only ones who spent the night here.  We met only one other person, Victor, a fisherman from Guyana who’s lived here for 18 years.  The name of his small boat is Divine. 

Deep Bay is beautiful.  The bay opens to the east and the ocean.  On the west side is a beach, not used much anymore.  The north and south sides are lined with hillsides and lots of mangroves.  The water is spectacular.  So clear you can tell where the sand is to drop your anchor and those sandy patches are large.   Close out to the reef, a new development is slowly being built.  We’ve walked over to this beach from another part of the island for the last two years.

This is the first time we’ve ever sailed here. 

See the bit of black and white on the beach to the right?

The beach may be abandoned, but someone's having fun!

Actually, we visited this beach in 1973, Christmas-New Years.  We were guests of Marney’s Grandmother, Allie Ault, lovingly named Gom, or Gommy.  The year we were married, 1972, was the year her husband, Poppy, walking down Madison Avenue of New York City, suddenly collapsed and died.  A year later, Gommy invited her family to join her for a vacation away from the city over the holidays.  As seminary students, we gladly accepted (as did everyone else).

So, we flew Eastern Airlines from Pittsburgh to San Juan and then, the next day, took a puddle jumper from San Juan to Virgin Gorda.  As the small plane turned at the end of the runway, we saw the tail of another plane sticking up – apparently it had not made the turn and fallen off the edge, facing down toward the sea.  No one hurt.  After the plane ride, it took a taxi and then a motor launch to reach this end of the island 44 years ago.  Our journey ended at the just opened Biras Creek hotel/resort. 

From the air, I had never seen such blue in the water – well, maybe a swimming pool came close to matching the colors.  From the beach, I had never seen such blue in the water.  It was a wonderful week where I was introduced to snorkeling, diving, and lobster.  And, it turned out to be the beginning of a life-changing event that has gone on ever since.

Five years ago, the resort closed.  From what I can put together (see earlier blog in 2016), ownership and island politics are to blame.  Along with more resort/hotels in Gorda Sound.  It’s sad to see how five years of sitting in the island sun and salt air can deteriorate an unattended place. 

Forty-four years ago, there were no sailboats at anchor here.  Someone was paid to rake the beach each morning and remove the sea grass that had reached the shore.  There was a small beach bar-stand that became a rather large beach bar at some point.  Back then there were bungalows, a restaurant, walking paths, and a tennis court waiting to be put together.  The owners had bought a lego-styled plastic tennis court that had arrived in dozens of cartons waiting to be unpacked so the pieces could be snapped together.  My industrious father-in-law had brought his tennis racket and in one afternoon, we had snapped the court in place.  Only to discover that it was a terrible surface.  When it rained, the plastic became so slippery you couldn’t play.  The concrete pad surface would have been better. 

The memories from that visit forty-four years ago flow, even today.  

The memories that came out of that visit are overwhelming.  Intrigue about the ocean and what lives in it.  Interest in boats, and sailing in particular (Sargent Shriver’s sailboat was anchored in Biras Creek while we were there).  Later that fascination with water and boats led to years of reading magazine articles and studying pictures, classes on coastal cruising, boats we’ve owned, others we’ve chartered. 

And yesterday, coming here to Deep Bay on Azure Wind felt like a bookend, even though I don’t think all the chapters have been written. 

I suspect Gom had no idea of the gift she was giving us.  She wanted the company of her family as she worked through her grief.  She wound up turning our attention toward the sea, the water, and the shoreline which has captured my imagination ever since. 

When one sums up the really big adventures of one’s life, for me (for us) those have focused around our children, ministry, music, the northern New Mexico mountains, and the Caribbean waters.   

I suspect for many of us, the major adventures of our lives started out as a gift from someone else.

A visit to Virgin Gorda: such a wonderful gift, 44 years ago!  I am smiling today remembering Gom in lots of other encounters, but especially for her help introducing me to the sea.

Thanks be to God for the generosity of a grandmother.

Fair Winds and Calm Seas

The Welcoming Committee of One