Culebrita, PR
18 19.173N
65.13.699W
I awoke this morning hearing an engine near to us but then bounded out of bed when I heard another that sounded as if it was going to run us over. The Puerto Rican Armada was arriving.

Dale was already awake, sipping his morning coffee in the cockpit and watching the morning activity. Huge powerboats would come roaring in, drop their anchor, then back up to the beach before dropping a second anchor. Each boat that arrived seemed to be a larger version of the one before it. Already there were twice as many boats as there were last night when I went to sleep. Oh well, the secret is out I guess.

As pre-arranged, we met the crews of DocNoMore and MTNest and hiked the trails up to the lighthouse on the hill. We were a bit disappointed when we arrived and found the lighthouse was surrounded by a fence with barbed wire at the top but we took our pictures and returned, pretty much, the way we had come. Only one detour to the wrong bay. What can I tell you, it’s hard to tell which path to take when they all look like deer paths to begin with.

We returned to the correct bay to see that it had been completely inundated with powerboats. They were lined up the entire length of the bay, except for where our sailboats, on the moorings, blocked their further assault on the beach. Or so we thought.

By noon, when it appeared that you couldn’t get any more boats backed onto the beach, one resourceful captain decided to drop his anchor, then back over our mooring line at an angle to access the beach beyond. Once he did this, others followed. Within an hour, we were perpendicular to four powerboats on the beach with nowhere to swing. Dale was determined to “hold his ground” but I was a nervous wreck. You know the old saying “when Mamma’s not happy, no one’s happy.” This boat is my home; I was definitely not happy!

Needless to say, we dropped our mooring line and backed out to where we could anchor; a feat in itself considering how many anchor lines where stretched along our path. Dale was a bit put out but I felt a lot better.

I spent the rest of the afternoon swimming, snorkeling, floating in the water with Terri and guesstimating that the 50 boats in this single bay were probably valued in excess of $20,000,000. Except for the overwhelming number of powerboats, I think Terri finally found that ‘one particular harbor’ she’s been looking for. What a great day.

Tonight, we’re listening to the Armada’s music and trying to keep the Palace lit up so that the drunk dinghy racers don’t run into us. I honestly think they’re using us as a marker on their outside leg.

Tomorrow, we’ll head to St. Thomas and, hopefully, the Armada will head back home.