Chasing Dreams in a Sailboat

By Joyce Di Lorenzo

Chasing Dreams in a Sailboat is an anthology of stories about the interesting people we met in foreign sailing destinations; vibrant people with different perspectives, backgrounds, and life experiences, who have shaped us into more open-minded individuals.

This is a collection of memoirs about the cultural experiences we have encountered in our beloved British Virgin Islands, the shockingly beautiful French Polynesian Society Islands, the ancient villages along the ink-blue Tyrrhenian Sea's most dazzling stretch of the Italian coastline known as the Amalfi Coast, and the magnificent Dalaman sailing region in southern Turkey, appropriately nicknamed the 'Turkish Riviera.'

In each destination, we mingled with the locals and embraced unexpected opportunities so that for a passing moment in time, we could become a part of the diverse civilization we visited.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889107804

Joyce Di Lorenzo

The author, Joyce Di Lorenzo, has struggled to overcome the emotionally numbing insecurities of her past life. Then, God sent her a savior. Vince was a sailor, passionate about the art and sport of sailing. One day, he invited her to join him on a sailing vacation in the British Virgin Islands. The experience changed her life and she emerged as a new person. She fell in love with Vince and the 3,000-year-old sport of sailing that formed his character. Spiritually flourished, the author discovered her heart’s yearning for adventure. Now husband and wife, they travel to world-class sailing destinations chasing dreams in a sailboat. Also, by Joyce Di Lorenzo: Landing on a Star in Umbria

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About the Author

The author, Joyce Di Lorenzo, has struggled to overcome the emotionally numbing insecurities of her past life. Then, God sent her a savior. Vince was a sailor, passionate about the art and sport of sailing. One day, he invited her to join him on a sailing vacation in the British Virgin Islands. The experience changed her life and she emerged as a new person. She fell in love with Vince and the 3,000-year-old sport of sailing that formed his character. Spiritually flourished, the author discovered her heart’s yearning for adventure. Now husband and wife, they travel to world-class sailing destinations chasing dreams in a sailboat.

Also, by Joyce Di Lorenzo: Landing on a Star in Umbria

Dedication

For Vince,

"If you live to be a hundred,

I want to live to be a hundred minus one day

so I never have to live without you."

—Alan A Milne

Copyright Information ©

Joyce Di Lorenzo 2024

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

All of the events in this memoir are true to the best of author’s memory. The views expressed in this memoir are solely those of the author.

Ordering Information

Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Lorenzo, Joyce Di

Chasing Dreams in a Sailboat

ISBN 9798889107798 (Paperback)

ISBN 9798889107804 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023917661

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published 2024

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 33rd Floor, Suite 3302

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

[phone]

Preface

I was thirty-six years old, crestfallen and heartbroken, the first time I stepped on the deck of a sailboat. Struggling to overcome the emotionally numbing insecurities of my past life, entrenched in a fatherless childhood, a failed marriage, and the painful break-up of a 12-year-long romance that I had hoped would end in marriage had taken a toll on my self-confidence. Not knowing where to turn, I stayed to myself or clung to my family for comfort as I hid from life around me, making little to no effort to pry myself loose from the overwhelming sadness that filled my soul.

Then, God sent me a savior; a strong, strikingly handsome, compassionate man with a beautiful name. As a recent divorcé, Vince seemed to understand my heart’s state of mind. Gently, he peeled away the layers of doubt and fear, until I developed trust in our friendship. We began dating casually, and before I realized what had happened, Vince’s tender persuasion and loving encouragement, helped me regain a sense of self-worth. I learned how to laugh again and how to get lost in a daydream. Gradually, my heart took flight, I let go of the past and looked forward to moving on.

Vince was a sailor, passionate about the art and sport of sailing. One day, he invited me to join him on a sailing vacation in the British Virgin Islands. Apprehensive, though cautiously intrigued, his sweet invitation was tempting and I listened with curious interest as Vince described picturesque, sheltered harbors, deep blue waters, and sun-soaked beaches with such joy, that although I had never been on a sailboat, joining him on this romantic adventure sounded heavenly.

I pondered the possibility for weeks, and eventually the idea of traveling to a foreign part of the world with a man who loved me and promised to ‘take care of everything’, won me over. It was just what my spirit needed. So, I threw caution to the wind, took a deep breath, and accepted his invitation.

On first class airline tickets, we flew from California to Puerto Rico, where we boarded a nine-passenger commuter plane bound for Beef Island; the gateway to all the British Virgin Island destinations. With Vince focused on building my enthusiasm for the dream vacation he planned, he spoke non-stop about the islands’ unspoiled marine life and natural beauty throughout the long journey.

From the Beef Island airport, a car service brought us to Tortola; the largest island in the chain and home to the Tortola Yacht Club, where a chartered boat awaited our arrival.

From many past charters here, Vince was known at the yacht club and the staff welcomed him as if he was a long-lost family member but when the attendant at the provisioning store acknowledged his return with a hearty embrace, I realized emphatically that in this part of the world, Vince was in his element, his glory. In contrast, I was on extremely unfamiliar ground and an annoying sense of oppression began to creep into my psyche.

That was many years ago…

With Vince’s steadfast, unconditional love by my side, I emerged from my life’s low point with new-found confidence, gradually blossoming into a confident personality, open to new possibilities, and an eagerness to share Vince’s passion for a beautiful, exhilarating sport that was a part of his character.

Chasing Dreams in a Sailboat is not about sailing, rather, it is an anthology of stories about the interesting people we met in foreign destinations, vibrant people with different perspectives, backgrounds, and life experiences, who have shaped us into more open-minded individuals. It is a collection of memoirs about the cultural experiences we have encountered.

Moreover, it is a first-hand narrative of our adventures in Vince’s beloved British Virgin Islands, the shockingly beautiful Society Islands of French Polynesia, the ancient villages along the ink-blue Tyrrhenian Sea’s most dazzling stretch of the Italian coastline known as the Amalfi Coast, and the magnificent Dalaman sailing region in southern Turkey, appropriately nicknamed the ‘Turkish Riviera’.

In each destination, we strived to mingle with the locals and embraced unexpected opportunities so that for a passing moment in time, we could become a part of the diverse civilization we visited.

The British Virgin Islands

Arrival

Road Town

‘Poetry’

On a typical balmy afternoon in April 1987, our small plane touched down at the Beef Island Airport on Tortola; the largest, most populated island in the British Virgin Island chain. Vince loved sailing these waters and did so at every opportunity. However, it was my first trip to this British overseas territory in the Caribbean; lovingly referred to by locals and frequent visitors as the BVI.

"Look! That sign is always a good sign," Vince said, as he pointed to a man holding a whiteboard with his name on it. Pleased that we arrived on schedule and a ground transportation agent was at the terminal to meet us, Vince walked directly toward him. Cordial introductions were made, greetings exchanged, and within moments, we were escorted to Road Town; the capital city of the British Virgin Islands and the location of the Tortola Yacht Club in Nanny Cay, where Vince chartered a sailboat for ten days.

Our ride in an open-chassis bus, on a two-lane bumpy road with chickens and piglets running loose and natives walking barefoot on the hot pavement, was somewhat startling, however, I felt as if we just arrived at the friendliest place on earth. The scenic beauty of the island was jaw-dropping, with shimmering cobalt blue and emerald green bays, and brilliantly colored flamboyant trees, bougainvillea, and plate-sized hibiscus that grew wild everywhere I looked.

Bareboating, hiring a boat without a skipper or crew, is one of the main attractions in the BVI. Located between the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, there are more than fifty islands, coral reefs, and diving wrecks to explore. With Fahrenheit temperatures in the 80s and 90s year-round, gentle ocean breezes, crystal clear water, and white sandy beaches, it is a sailor’s paradise.

Located in a quaint harbor on the South side of Tortola, nestled in a sheltered basin in Road Town is the Tortola Yacht Club; a sleepy, laid-back operation with an attentive staff. Our bus pulled up to the main entrance, where a concierge stood, ready to greet us. Delighted to see Vince, the concierge welcomed him with an embrace and a robust pat on the back, as if Vince was a long-lost family member.

In the lobby, the front-desk clerk greeted him in the same manner, and with a snap of the clerk’s fingers, an eager-to-assist staff member boasting an enormous smile, suddenly appeared to carry our luggage; consisting of two backpacks and a boat-bag filled with fruits and vegetables.

Once a week, fresh produce from the US Virgin Islands arrives by boat at Tortola’s main harbor and the entire load is sold out quickly to locals and the boating community. To avoid consuming canned vegetables for the duration of our charter, Vince recommended bringing a well-rounded selection of fresh produce from California.

At first, I thought this was a silly idea, however, when I peeked in the only provision store located at the entrance to the marina, I saw no more than a few overripe bananas, some onions, and a couple of sad-looking potatoes for sale. Consequently, I was pleased that we followed Vince’s advice.

While Vince handled the check-in process at the front desk, I perused through a selection of travel brochures when a staff member presented us with a painkiller; a tropical mixed drink made from pineapple juice, orange juice, cream of coconut, and the BVI’s trademarked Pusser’s dark rum.

Welcome back to the BVI, Captain, the staff member said to Vince, as he served the signature cocktails in charming, eye-catching, enameled tin mugs decorated with Great Britain’s Navy logo.

Thank you, replied Vince. I’ve waited a whole year for one of these. Then, turning to me with a raised mug, he uttered, Hon, you’ll love this, these are addicting, we will drink a lot of these on this trip. Vince was certainly right, this drink was delicious, coconutty, and decadent!

Soon, another staff member, accompanied by a colleague with an enormous smile, escorted us to our boat. The docks were meticulously maintained, moreover, the fleet of world-class luxury yachts, anxiously waiting to be taken to sea, was quite impressive.

There she is, said the staff member to Vince, as he stopped at the stern of our assigned yacht, inviting us to come on board with a sweeping hand motion and a bow of his lanky upper body. "This is ’Poetry’, welcome aboard, Captain and Lady!"

Built in 1985, the sleek and sporty Endeavor 42, with a center cockpit, festooned with a welcome card addressed to the captain and crew, a bottle of champagne on ice, and two toasting flutes was ready to set sail.

Excellent! Vince remarked, with a look of approval and a sparkle in his eyes. He stepped on board like a natural and without mentioning the champagne, did a quick scan below deck, Hmmmm, there might be enough room here for the two of us, he said jokingly.

Gesturing for me to come on board, Vince offered his hand. However, it was my first time stepping aboard a sailboat and I was a bit reluctant. Nevertheless, I held my breath, laid my hand in his, and took my initial big step on deck. Oh my gosh, I was immediately taken aback by the rocking of the boat. For a split second, I hesitated to proceed and reached for a shroud to keep myself steady. Once both feet were firmly planted on the deck, I quickly stood unassisted and tried to appear confident.

Suddenly, Vince noticed the bottle of champagne chilling in the ice bucket. Compliments of the Tortola Yacht Club, Captain. Cheers! the staff member said with an informal, two-finger salute as he stepped on shore and walked away.

Thanks! Nice touch! Vince shouted out in response and without further ado, presented me with the card, popped the cork, and filled our glasses.

Well, what do you think so far? he asked, handing me a glass filled with the festive bubbles.

I did not know what to say. I was overwhelmed by the whole scene; the big beautiful yacht, the marina, the champagne on ice, the islands, and most of all…Vince! I didn’t respond, I didn’t know how, furthermore, I couldn’t believe that I was about to embark on a vacation-style far different from anything I had ever experienced before.

"To Poetry and you…my Love and First Mate, Vince said, as we clinked glasses and kissed. I am looking forward to sailing with you," he added sweetly.

I acted sheepish, but inside, my heart was bursting with joy!

There was much to do before leaving the harbor in the morning. While Vince attended the required safety checks and orientation meetings, I assessed our accommodations below deck. As I looked around, I truly felt like a fish out of water and it took some time to acclimate to my new marine surroundings.

I pondered how to transform Poetry’s posh, bright, and airy interior into our living quarters for the next twelve days. To let a breeze flow throughout the cabin, I figured out how to open the locks on the side hatches, which were covered by curtains that slid open. I kept them that way with the hook-and-loop strips attached. The galley, outfitted with everything necessary to prepare and serve meals appeared to be ready for use, although I did not know how to operate the gimbaled gas stove.

With Vince managing matters on shore, I was left to my own devices and began to gain my bearings. I unpacked our luggage and transferred the produce from our bags to sliding metal baskets, which I discovered underneath the sink. Suddenly, Poetry shook under the heavy footsteps of two sweaty dockworkers. Unannounced, the men came on board to deliver a large supply of pre-ordered beverages. An ample stock of bottled water, tonic, club soda, fruit juices, colas, a few bottles of rum, gin, beer, and a selection of red and white wines was loaded into the cockpit. My Goodness, I thought, someone on this boat planned to party!

The beverage containers occupied a large amount of space and I wondered where to stash everything. I was able to fit several wine bottles upright, in a cabinet in the main salon and just as I began removing the plastic wrappers from the 12-pack, large bottles of water, Vince returned from his meeting.

Good, our libations arrived. Is everything here? he asked, handing me two sheets of paper, representing a copy of the beverage order. As he came down the companionway, he noticed my attempt at stowing the large inventory of cans and bottles.

Oh no, Hon, not like that, he remarked, pointing to the open cabinet where I stored the wine. If you place the bottles on their sides, they won’t roll around while we’re sailing. He laid the bottles down, one on top of the other, and stuffed a rolled-up bath towel in the space remaining in the cabinet. What a brilliant idea, I wished I would have thought of it! If I realized that the boat heeled under sail, I may have had the forethought to store the bottles differently.

While I continued organizing and stowing the rest of the beverage supply, Vince removed the seat cushions from the benches surrounding the dining table in the salon. The hinged top opened to reveal a built-in storage rack specifically designed for bottles.

Let’s keep the liquor in here, Vince suggested, and we can keep a few sodas, water, and beer in the cooler on deck where we can easily reach them under sail. We’ll refill the cooler as needed. We can stash the rest in the galley lockers. Oh, and keep the plastic wrappers around the large packs of bottled water until we are ready to use them. It’ll keep them from rolling around. Anything you can’t find room for, we can toss in one of the extra forward cabins.

It was obvious that Vince had done this before!

Three staterooms (bedrooms or cabins) and two heads (bathrooms) were ample space for two people to live aboard comfortably. I chose the aft stateroom with an attached head to be our ensuite quarters for the duration. The two smaller staterooms located at the bow, with a shared head between them, seemed difficult to maneuver in and out of, especially during those untimely trips to the bathroom, in the middle of the night.

The yacht club provided plenty of towels and linens, however, there was no standing headroom to make the bed, consequently, I crawled on my hands and knees to cover the mattress with a flat bedsheet as best I could, followed by the top sheet and blanket, placing the pillows at one end of the berth (bed). Pleased with the result, I stepped away to survey my work. When Vince saw what I accomplished, he shook his head in disapproval.

Oh no, Hon, he said again, the nights are hot and humid here. The blanket should go underneath the bottom sheet as an anti-perspiration, thermal control layer. Trust me, we will sleep better if you remake the bed, and Hon, our pillows should be at the other end of the bed so we can catch the breeze that comes through that hatch at night, he added, pointing to a hatch located overhead.

Honestly? I had so much to learn!

By late afternoon, Vince returned from the yacht club briefing, and all the required documents were properly submitted to the marina. We were officially cleared to set sail in the morning. Provisioning the boat with food was the last chore remaining. Our only option for grocery shopping was the market with the over-ripe bananas and a meager selection of potatoes and onions. Upon entering the store, a big, jolly, native man approached us with a lively step, both hands fully extended.

Welcome back, sir. It is a pleasure to see you again.

Hi Ali, it’s great to be back, Vince replied as the two men shared a hearty handshake and a man-hug. This is my first mate, take good care of her, will you? Then, directing the conversation to me, he said, Hon, this is Ali, he owns this establishment, just tell him what you need.

Welcome to the BVI, Ali said with a smile, as he offered me an empty woven basket, we have everything you need for your charter. Please make yourself at home.

As I selected food items and staples for our trip, Ali accompanied me through the store, carrying another empty basket. Patiently, he filled up the baskets with the items I selected, brought them to the counter, and placed them near the cash register. What a delightful way to shop!

Although Vince let me wander through the store with Ali alone, he was astutely aware that I struggled. I had no experience shopping for a trip like this. Should I be looking for basic chow or culinary elegance? Nevertheless, I chose items that looked tasty, familiar, or interesting.

Much to my appreciation, Vince suggested buying the basics for breakfast; coffee, English muffins, butter, and orange marmalade.

Buy what you think we’ll need for only a few days, he added, there will be another opportunity to stock up in Cane Garden Bay. Plan for easy breakfasts and lunches. In the evenings, we can grill fish or meat on board and occasionally we will eat at a local restaurant onshore.

That bit of information was extremely helpful. Armed with my new knowledge, I was able to proceed with my shopping, readily filling up several baskets. In addition to the items Vince suggested, I bought frozen chicken thighs, pork chops, fish, pre-formed beef patties, bread, rice, a dozen eggs, cooking oil, island spices, salt, pepper, onions, a few of the sad-looking potatoes, and something called Caribbean Chili Habanero Hot Sauce.

I also stocked up on housekeeping essentials; such as paper towels, plenty of toilet paper, dish soap, plastic bags, aluminum foil, matches, and cleaning supplies. Lastly, I selected several cans of mixed nuts, dried fruit, chips, a variety of hard cheeses, and a jar of olives; must-haves for a ritual Vince insisted on being part of our daily schedule; Happy Hour on deck at sunset.

Feeling confident that I selected wisely and that we had enough food for our first week at sea, I joined Ali at the cash register. Efficiently, he scanned each item before placing it in a box. When the box was full, he loaded it onto a pushcart. I was astonished at the amount of food we purchased as if we planned to feed an army!

"I’ll have this delivered to Poetry right away, Captain, Ali said, nodding his head in Vince’s direction. I’ll do it immediately."

While we waited on board for the provisions to arrive, Vince demonstrated the use of the gimbaled stove, the shower-head, the shower pump, and the hand pump on the marine toilet. He showed me how to lock down the hatches and properly latch the cabinet drawers and doors.

More importantly, he covered a few safety tips, showed me where the lifejackets were stowed, and explained the use of the ship-to-shore radio, including how to call for help in case of an emergency. Intimidated by my lack of knowledge about this world of sailing and overwhelmed by the enormous amount of instructions and information I received, I hoped that my feeling of inadequacy was not outwardly apparent.

Soon, our bounty from the grocery store arrived. This time I was more efficient, able to stow everything properly, and before long, it was finally time to unwind and de-stress.

Too tired to explore our dining options away from the marina, we decided to eat an early dinner at the yacht club’s restaurant exclusive for boating clientele. Feeling a bit like an elitist sitting among such patronage, I felt snobbishly out of place.

The menu listed an array of unfamiliar, local specialties, therefore it took some time for me to decide what to order. Ultimately, I chose a spicy conch fritter appetizer with sweet peppers and onions; a West Indies favorite. It was crazy delicious! The locally caught grilled fish entrée Vince and I shared was equally divine. After dinner, instead of lingering at our table with aperitifs, we returned to Poetry to loosen our clothes and unwind.

Before going to bed, we enjoyed one more drink on the foredeck. On the horizon, a glorious sunset prevailed. Different from the lush tropical Hawaiian Islands I often visited in prior years, the BVI was more natural, wild, more rural, and at night, the beauty of these islands easily transformed into a stunning paradise. The lack of glaring lights from high-rise hotels let the stars shine brighter. Brilliant as diamonds against the dark sky, each star twinkled as if competing to be the most dazzling.

Jet-lagged and dog-tired, at last, we ducked into our cabin and drifted off to sleep rather quickly. Unfortunately, I did not stay asleep. Every unfamiliar sound frightened me and kept me awake, wondering if our boat was drifting. Occasionally, the bilge pump sounded as if it was running, the wind blowing through the rigging caused me concern and on a neighboring yacht, a lively group of people in a celebratory mood kept me from sleeping soundly through the night.

I began to feel anxious about leaving the harbor in the morning.

Caribbean Island Hopping

Norman Island

The Bight

Vince slept peacefully until dawn, waking well-rested and cheerful. Like a child on Christmas morning, he was outwardly excited, looking forward to leaving the harbor.

Good morning, he said. Are you ready to sail?

While we enjoyed a leisurely light