Just as soon as I finish the last blog post, the wind drops, the rain stops, and the squall moves off. The sky brightens, and through the haze the sun glistens off the ocean, as if beckoning me. Now or never, I think. I start the engine, throw off the lines, and motor out of Clarkes Court Marina and Woburn Bay, JACE’s home for the last ten months.

As always after such a long break, I’m a bit nervous — though much less so than two years ago, when I sailed off on my own for the first time ever. I run through my mental checklist and grip the wheel tighter than needed as the dock disappears in my wake.

I round the southwest corner of Grenada and set sail. With a fresh easterly breeze we begin cruising north along the coast. The weather is mixed: gray, a bit of sun, occasional rain. The wind comes and goes here in lee of the island, but overall we make good progress. And I’m enjoying myself.

I had forgotten how well JACE sails. When I trim the sails right and get her perfectly balanced, she rides like on rails, and I can steer with just two fingers on the wheel, almost no weather helm. It feels awesome.

Near the northern cape the waves turn bigger and choppier, and the wind pipes up to 20–25 knots. But we’re well reefed, and I enjoy going upwind, throwing in a longer easterly tack so we don’t get pushed too far off course.

As intended I make an overnight stop at tiny Ronde Island — a small speck of land, rocks and shrubs and nothing more, between Grenada and Carriacou. The anchorage is a bit rolly but offers enough shelter for the night, and the two other boats anchored here give me confidence I’m not entirely crazy to let night find me in such a lonely spot.

On Wednesday morning we press on, tacking upwind in pristine conditions. For a while we debate — silently — who is enjoying the sailing more, JACE or me. We leave it unresolved, but we’re both very happy.

For the last two days we’ve been chilling here in Carriacou — “chilling” in the sense of staying put at anchor in Tyrell Bay with no ambition to go anywhere. The bay is sizeable, well protected, shallow, and calm. A beach, and beyond it colorful houses, line the shore, and a steady breeze gently sways JACE.

I take it easy here partly because I still have a list of smaller boat projects to work through. But partly I’ve also just been strangely tired. I go to bed early and sleep far more than usual, and yet I still feel wiped. In the afternoons I struggle to keep my eyes open. Who knows — maybe my body and mind just need a few quiet days after the past few weeks of nonstop work.

Now everything is ready on board, and tomorrow I’ll take JACE to another bay for a night. On Sunday my dear friend Greg flies in from California for a week.

That will be so much fun.