Anchored in Tyrell Bay.

I’m lying in the saloon. There is a breeze over my skin and a slight rocking from side to side. I can hear the wash up onto the shore, some music, and children laughing and playing on the beach.

Muir is out on the dingy. He had a plan of going to shore to buy some food and having a celebratory beer. But for now he too is bobbing on the cool sea outside, admiring Ongemak’s new position in Tyrell Bay.

You see, when we teased the gods by professing that we’d be in the water by Tuesday, we’d forgotten the #1 rule of the sailing life… You cannot make plans.

By Monday, we had painted Ongemak’s hull and Muir was just doing the final engine service when he discovered a missing piece where a water pipe would attach to the engine. Corroded clean off.

Old wisdom kicked in like muscle memory: ‘readjust the plan, move expectations, remember that we’re on a Caribbean island, and things work out for the best.’

We checked into a little apartment for a bit of comfort and, instead of waiting ten days for a part to be sent, Muir went out looking for McGuyver and found someone even better – Manny the mechanic. This guy took half a day and we had the part back by Wednesday.

By Thursday, Ongemak’s engine was purring like a lion and on Friday, we were fetched with a boat lift, picked up by another, bigger boat crane and placed gently in the water.

The crew was fantastic. It also happened to be the yard manager’s last day, so by the time Ongemak was tied in place, we were sitting next to her, a crate of iced beers and the most entertaining boat yard stories, skillfully and hilariously told . See? Things work out as they should.

A last lick of paint.

Last night we remained tied to the marina dock and this afternoon we took Ongemak into the sea for a quick sail. All the little boat tricks are coming back to us. I’ve even tied a few bowlines.

After carefully navigating the bay filled with all sizes and shape yachts and boats, we anchored close to shore, right in front of some of our current favourite drinking and eating spots.

Muir and I went for a quick free dive down the chain to check that the anchor was happy and secure. She’s perfect. The bimini is up, the dingy is in the water, we’re swaying from side to side, Muir is heading for that beer and I’m writing with a smile on my face.

From Muir’s admiring point of view.

This boat is special. She’s been through a lot and she’s still so strong and ready for anything.

This time I won’t end the post with a promise of ‘what’s to come’. There is no cliffhanger here – what will be will be.

Thank you for reading, as always, we appreciate it.