Better

The mellow surf off

Prickly Pear Island,
near Virgin Gorda
in the BVI, is just
right for a variety
of water sports.

Wet ter

opposite: bob friel

When it comes to water sports, the BVI are all that and a bag of ships.
story by bob friel Photography by Zach Stovall

5 8

When I first tried surfing and fell into roiling waves again
and again and again, I spent a week picking sand out
of unmentionable places. The first time I tried windsurfing,
I stood and slowly sailed downwind before turning to
ignominiously swimming the board back, since trying to tack
splayed me on the sail like a bug on a windshield. Now, the very
first time Ive stepped atop a stand-up paddle board, Im standing
tall, taking that big board wherever I want to go down-current,
up-current, over little swells, across skinny water only a few
inches deep along the beach and then out over the deep water
in the North Sound boat channel. The board is called a sup for
short, as in Whats up? And the answer is me. Middle-aged, mid-
dlin shaped and fully hangovered me.
Id come to the BVI to ride an entire wave of water sports, to
spend a week so soggy that Id have to be packed in containers
of 3.4 ounces or less to get on the flight home. Virgin Gordas
North Sound is wet-spot zero here in the worlds greatest water-
sports playground an unofficial title, granted (by me) after Sir
Richard Branson was photographed here kiteboarding with
a naked supermodel clinging to his back like a spider monkey.
Branson owns Necker Island, a private-yet-rentable paradise, and
he had such a good time giving Twiggyback rides that Necker and
its neighboring resort, the Bitter End Yacht Club, created a five-
day conclave of kick-ass kiteboarders, BVI Kite Jam.
I show up at the Bitter End Yacht Clubs water-sports kiosk
my first morning to reserve my kite, harness, board and naked
supermodel. Scott, the kiteboarding instructor, looks me up and
down and says that the wind isnt strong enough for kiting and
my heart probably not strong enough for the supermodel. The
clubs water-sports manager, Jerome Rand, says that conditions
6 0
On Virgin Gordas North
Sound, Bitter End Yacht Club
offers shore leave for sailors
of all stripes, from novices to
sea dogs (also opposite left).
Opposite right: Hobie Cats
were made for water like this.
of both sea and me are fine for regular, sans-sex-monkey sailing
and waves his hand toward the explosion of color that marks
their sailboat beach. There wait most of Bitter Ends collection:
150 watercraft of every shape, speed and size, kayaks to keelboats,
with friendly instruction available on each. A friend and I spend
the rest of the day slicing through North Sound and visiting the
nearby sugar-sand beaches, first on a sporty Vanguard sailboat
and then aboard a brand-new Hobie Getaway.
Owned by the Hokin family since 1973 and run day to day by
the ebullient Mary Jo Ryan for so long that the pubs named Mo
Ryans, Bitter End Yacht Club is a sailors asylum. Local breezes
and seas are ideal for wind sports most of the year, guests and
staff compete in weekly races and regattas, and the evening rum
fest is a jabber of jibs and jibes. Many guests return year after
year, learning to sail here and then coming back to hone skills
then bringing along kids for the same experience. Most packages
include use of all the water-sports toys and boats, so for both kids
and adults, its like going to camp, with endless activities and lots
of lets-all-have-fun staff. When we finish with the sailboats, we
simply check out the stand-up paddle boards and go on our way.
W
e boar d a boat with an act ual engine the
next morning, joining longtime Bitter End fishing
guide Bernard Bernie Charles on a center-console
Mako to run east, past Virgin Gordas seaward cliffs, into deep
water. The Virgin Islands claim some of the worlds best blue
 bob friel

the very first time Ive stepped atop a stand-up paddle board,Im standing tall, taking that big board wherever I want to go.
marlin fishing, and though a lot of the charter boats base in St.
Thomas, USVI, the hottest spots lie in BVI waters. Our sporty
schedule doesnt allow time to run to the famed North Drop, South
Drop or Seamount, but Bernie tells us that good fishing starts just
two miles off, and we start dragging rigged ballyhoo 20 minutes
after leaving the dock. Game fish like wahoo and tuna frequent
the BVI year-round, with the biggest mobs of mahimahi coming
in April and May and with blue marlin breaking records, hearts
and backs during the summer and into the fall. These gentle swells
look fishy, and plenty of flying fish take off on our approach, but no
knockdowns. Bernie then spots a frigate bird the pterodactyl-
looking seabirds that often follow big billfish for hours, waiting
for scraps from a kill and he steers for it. We cant buy a bite this
morning, though, until were heading back in and cross the reef,
when a big, toothy barracuda attacks. Its reeled in, smiles for a
photo and then gets released back into the clear blue.
Beyond big game like monster marlin, the BVIs draw for
anglers includes big schools of bonefish that haunt the flats of
Anegada, the drowned island. Garfield Forbes and Sly Forbes
serve as guides there, and Sly tells me he caught a 32-inch
19-pounder last summer. Now, its common knowledge that all
fishermen are liars except for me and Sly and that story made
me start wondering about him but next time I hit the BVI, a
fly rod will stay glued to my hand.
N
o p lace on earth offers better islan d -
hopping than the BVI, with some 15 inhabited islands,
50 or so deserted rocks and cays, and a couple dozen of
the finest beach bars my livers ever alighted upon. Simply getting
around the BVI counts as a water sport, and we do it in style. Our
47-foot Moorings Powercat purrs along at 15 knots from anchorage
to anchorage, where at rest it becomes a floating four-bedroom,
four-bath, three-floor fully catered
penthouse with a flybridge roomy
enough for the crew of Star Trek.
Last Stop Sports had loaded the big
gal with gear at the Moorings dock in
Tortola, so we had a self-supported
water-sports operation wherever we
roamed, ever ready to drop kayaks
off the deck and explore the islands
nooks and sandy crannies or to pull
out fishing rods and cast lures to some
of the big tarpon we saw swirling amid
the mangrove hummocks.
On a tip from Rand back at the
Bitter End, I motor up to a mooring
ball below Virgin Gordas Mountain
Point. We break out the snorkeling
gear and slip into the blissfully warm,
clear water. Three of the crew go one
way along the rocky wall while Brent
Schmierbach (co-worker and sports
model) and I fin toward a narrow cut
Game fish frequent the BVI year-round, and blue marlin break
6 4
in the rocks. Small corals and bright sponges encrust the wall, Casting for bonefish
but there arent many fish or other critters around, and I wonder along miles of flats off
the isle of Anegada.
what makes this place worth a stop. Then we spot a dark undercut Opposite: The home
at the base of the rocks, about 15 feet down. Poking our heads out of Boardsailing BVI on
of the water, we debate if it could be a cave and, if so, whether it Trellis Bay, Tortola.
might lead to a place where we can surface and get a breath. Then
we debate which one of us is foolish enough to check it out. With
no clear winner in the crazy contest but with my being the only
one who can drive the boat, Brent is deemed expendable. He dives
down and slowly approaches the cavern. Then, just as he fades
from view, he is violently sucked into the darkness.
I wait. And wait. No Brent. That is either a good or a very
bad sign. I dive down into the cavern, where I can see an eerie
blue light on the other side of what I now know is a cave. Then
the water a strong surge from swells funneling into the nar-
row canyon flips me upside down and gulps me into the cave.
Almost out of breath, I pop to the surface right next to Brent in a
natural atrium, surrounded by thousands of silverside swirling in
a tornado that reaches from the surface to near the bottom. The
sun pours down through the skylight, flashing off the baitfish as
they swim amid blue light set dancing by the choppy water. We
dally until we realize that, since we are totally out of sight inside
this rocky womb, our crewmates might be missing us. (And we are
right: They have started happy hour without us).
Scuba divers dont have to worry about how long they can hold
their breath, and along with everything else, the BVI are top dive
destinations, with a dozen dive shops catering both to resort- and
boat-based clients. Living reefs plus dramatic stone canyons and
boulder fields (underwater versions of the famous Baths) offer a
dizzying array of dive sites. And thats not counting the wrecks.
The most famous, of course, is the wreck of the 310-foot-long RMS
Rhone. The Rhone was a movie star, featured in The Deep, where it
received nearly as much attention as
Jacqueline Bisset. Its popularity can
draw a crowd, but when we arrive,
only one small dive boat bobs at a
mooring atop what is now a national
park. Seeing the wreck in a small
group offers a quiet, respectful visit
to a time capsule. The disaster, dur-
ing an 1867 late-season hurricane,
took 124 lives when high winds and
seas drove the iron-hulled ship into
Black Rock Point on Salt Island as
the captain attempted a run for open
sea. Cool ocean water flooded the
hull and hit the red-hot boilers. The
explosion split the ship in two. The
Rhones bow now rests in 80 feet of
water, still recognizable and lying
starboard side down. As we swim
above the ships broken stern, which
lies crumpled against the rocks 30
feet below, my eyes suddenly realize
records, hearts and backs during the summer and into the fall.
 that what I thought was just a smooth swath of bottom is actually
stay, play and sail in the BVI: THE ESSENTIALS the Rhones gigantic bronze propeller. Large lobsters shelter in
On Virgin Gorda, Bitter End Yacht Club (pictured here) offers luxury accommodations and everything from weeklong sailing schools for
rank amateurs to the Pro Am Regatta, being held this year from Oct. 30 to Nov. 6. From $530 per night all-inclusive for a garden villa, the shade beneath the ships metal plates while we swim alongside
based on double occupancy. 800-872-2392; beyc.com. Over on Tortola, Aragorns Studio is a one-stop shop for all things local and organic. wraithlike barracuda that stand guard over the site.
In addition to showcasing its namesakes pottery, prints and metalwork, the onsite shop offers arts and crafts from artisans from around
the Caribbean, as well as locally grown fruits and vegetables. 284-495-1849; aragornsstudio.com. The Moorings, based on Tortola, offers A number of the BVIs water sports surfing at beach breaks
daily to weekly charters, from bareboat to crewed luxury yacht, in the BVI and to other Caribbean destinations. 888-952-8420; moorings.com. like Apple and Josiahs bays, windsurfing North Sound and
Trellis Bay, diving the Rhone and the Dogs, snorkeling the Baths
and the Caves, and sailing the Sir Francis Drake Channel are
so well-known as must-dos that they approach the level of
Caribbean clichs. But everybody goes to the Grand Canyon and
Yellowstone too, and that doesnt make the experiences any less
jaw-dropping. One day before we are due to turn in our mobile
marine mansion, I tie us up to one of my and many others
favorite snorkel spots.
N
o other site in the C aribbean oo z es p irati -
cal atmosphere like the Norman Island Caves. The trio of
dark tunnels pierces the island near Treasure Point, and
Norman, its caves and nearby Dead Chest Island are thought to
have helped inspire Robert Louis Stevensons 1883 novel Treasure
Island. As I sit on the swim platform strapping on my fins, its easy
to imagine a longboat rowed by scurvy dogs, with Long John
Silver at the bow approaching with a heavy load of booty ready
for burying. I slip into the water. Theres a steep drop-off below
the caves, and through the clear water, I see a sinuous dark form
30 feet beneath me a Caribbean reef shark, nice-size. I lift my
head to call my boat mates over for a look but see maybe 20 other
people paddling around me, dinghy loads of tourists all happily
oblivious to the big fish below. The shark, of course, is minding its
own business, harmlessly patrolling its stretch of sea, but I decide
against alerting the crowd to the thrilling sight on the chance it
might cause one of them to pollute the water.
Snorkeling inside the dimly lit caves provides a taste of night-
diving excitement, with schools of daylight-shy copper sweepers
The Caves, a spot on
uninhabited Norman
Island may have
inspired the novel
Treasure Island.
Right: A Moorings
Powercat cruises
near Anegada.
this page, left: bob friel
6 6
and nocturnal orange cup corals. Every hard surface exists in
living color, with sponges, calcareous algae and corals encrust-
ing the rock. Between the caves, I find small patches of healthy
elkhorn coral, an encouraging sight since elkhorn has died off so
thoroughly that it is listed as threatened under the U.S. Endan-
gered Species Act. The largest stand of elkhorn grows right at
Treasure Point, and we gather there and watch, motionless and
mesmerized for at least 20 minutes, as a pack of blue bar jacks
stalk and strike a vast school of silverside.
Water sports fill our week in the BVI to the very end, until a
few hours before our flight home. A short walk from the airport,
we wander down to Trellis Bay, one of the most unique spots on
Tortola. Well, kind of on Tortola: The residents of this water-
sports commune/artist colony often say they wish they could
detach their little stretch of beach and float free. Life here centers
around Aragorns Studio and the adjacent Cybercaf/Boardsailing
BVI shop, with its laid-back vibe, frequent live music and monthly
full-moon parties that are much more family-friendly than the
wild and werewolfy shenanigans out at Bomba Shack. Its also
here that I find one of the big kahunas of the windsurfing world,
Jeremy Wright, whos been operating out of Trellis Bay since 1981,
around the first time a surfer and a sailor first crashed together,
Reeses Peanut Butter Cup-style, to create windsurfing.
Wright asks me about my windsurfing experience, and I tell
him my 20-year-old first-and-last-time disaster story. He shakes
his head at the stupid and tells me about the advances in beginner
boards and lessons: He and his instructors offer a money-back
guarantee that they can not only get you running downwind but
that youll be able to turn and come back all with only two hours
of instruction. I agree to test-drive that guarantee the next time
Im in the BVI, then ask about kiteboarding. He says its no prob-
lem with good gear and instruction, but it takes longer to learn. I
take a brochure and head off to the airport, wondering how many
lessons you need before they strap on the supermodel.
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