by
Tom
Wuckovich The
Romance and Adventure of a Yacht Charter Somewhere
else in the world, it's morning. But I can't imagine one as stunning as that which
I'm witnessing from the deck of my chartered yacht in the lee of a sheltered cove
along the island of Anguilla's unspoiled Shoal Bay.
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The
emerging Caribbean sun announces the arrival of dawn in slow, delicate movements,
brushing away the last vestiges of night like a summer wind dispersing a reluctant
morning mist. The sun's stealthy rays slender, blazing arrows of light persuade
the plants, flowers, trees and shrubs to erupt into a radiance of color as they
gently touch each one on their way out to sea and the horizon beyond, heralding
the start of another glorious day.
Not far away, over the ridge of the
cove, I can see the masts of other sailboats standing tall like silver columns
holding up the roof of heaven. There's a faint hint of a breeze that meanders
down the western face of the hillside and nudges our 48-foot catamaran, encouraging
it to tug against its anchor, as if to say it, too, was ready for another day
of adventure.
This was only the second day of a week-long sail aboard
this luxury cat, part of a large fleet of cruising sailboats of every size and
description meticulously cared for by The Moorings, a world-renowned yacht charter
company with bases scattered on virtually every continent.
Sailing vacations
have become an integral part of my life, beginning some 25 years ago with my first
experience on a single-hull 50-foot sloop from a Moorings' fleet in Tortola, British
Virgin Islands. Six close friends were eager for an uncommon holiday and what
grips the imagination more than the sea? Tales of pirates and treasure, of white
whales, menacing sharks and bold seafaring men had kept us spellbound as children
and young adults, and this seemed the perfect opportunity to create our own myths
and memories.
That first sail developed into a love affair with chartering
that remains undiminished to this day. In the years that have rolled by like so
many waves on a deserted beach, this annual rite of passage continues to stir
our collective souls.
(CONTINUE...) |
