Yesterday we were motoring out of the crowded anchorage of Soper’s Hole, Tortola. The Christmas winds were at work, shooting arcing blasts past boats, knocking them every which way. Carefully we picked our way through, taking care not to get hit by a skating sloop or a dancing catamaran. The boats were packed tight; some we passed with only feet to spare. Just as we were nearing the last few rows and open water we heard a loud shriek. “Aaaaaaaaa!“ Alarmed, our heads spun around, looking for the source, fearful of what we would find. The old nagging question, “WHAT NEXT?” filled our heads.

When our eyes met eight waving arms and four friendly, excited faces on a nearby boat, we knew what it was…NEIGHBORS! Not the kind we make in the Caribbean for a few days or weeks. These were the real deal from our home, so very far away, the town of Gig Harbor in Washington State. It was the Bujacich family, down for a week of tropical sun and sailing.




We knew they’d been in the area but we hadn't met up because we spent Christmas in the US Virgins and they'd been in the British islands. We were on our first day of a BVI cruise; they were on their last. Our paths crossed for all of a few minutes in an archipelago that holds dozens of islands, each dotted with an abundance of places to drop an anchor. The chance of us randomly finding each other was like locating a snowball in a blizzard or your lost child at the mall.

This SMALL WORLD phenomenon happens to us now and again. Last spring we dropped anchor off Virgin Gorda’s Baths after a sixty hour sail from Antigua. We were deep asleep until we heard a dinghy motoring nearby and a voice saying, “Gig Harbor? Gig Harbor?! That boat is from Gig Harbor!” Then louder, “HEY! GIG HARBOR!”

I jumped up and the minute I looked into the dinghy, the voice and I both screamed, “Aaaaaaaaa!” It was Sylvia, our former next door neighbor. She was down from Gig Harbor with her husband and friends for a week of sun, sailing, rum and lobster. Back home, Sylvia and Bruce had been members of the Bus-Moms-Club that walked our kids to and from the bus-stop. But that day, we were in one Caribbean spot at the same time, for all of a few minutes, but somehow we found each other.

Each SMALL WORLD encounter is astounding but the most amazing one happened years ago in St. Marten when we were anchored off uninhabited Green Key. Bruce and our young son were alone on the beach when a dinghy motored up. One of the three occupants pointed to Woodwind and asked Bruce, “Is that your boat? Where’re you from?” It turned out that she was the sister of our close friend from Gig Harbor. She was visiting St. Marten for one day on a cruise ship. To get to Green Key she had taken a long bus ride, walked down a long beach and hired the small boat. Phenomenon;miracle; act of God; fate; call it what you will but please, let it happen to us again…and soon.!