BVI Sailing Adventures: The Baths Virgin Gorda, Beef Island Full Moon Party & Friends Visit in the British Virgin Islands

BVI Sailing Adventures: The Baths Virgin Gorda, Beef Island Full Moon Party & Friends Visit in the British Virgin Islands

Darlings, pour yourself a proper cuppa (or a rum punch, no judgement here), because our latest chapter in the British Virgin Islands was a glorious, chaotic whirlwind of friends, near disasters, moonlit madness, and enough turquoise water to make your Instagram feed weep with envy. We’d barely caught our breath from Anegada when it was time to haul up the anchor and sail back toward Tortola to collect our UK pals. Simple plan: seven blissful nights of island-hopping with them. Caribbean airlines, however, had other ideas cancellations, rescheduling, return flights mysteriously shifted and poof, we were down to five nights. Five! Cue the frantic itinerary cram. We were determined to make every second sparkle.

First mission: position ourselves close to the airport for their after dark arrival. No one wants a pitch-black dinghy ride with excited guests, luggage, and the ever present risk of someone ending up in the drink. We snagged a morning ball at Long Bay, conveniently near Beef Island Airport and waited like eager puppies. The pickup itself? An absolute adventure. We dinghied to a pontoon, strolled to arrivals (feeling very civilized), greeted our wide-eyed friends with hugs, then herded them and their suitcases back along the path to the dinghy. Picture it: three Brits, 1 Icelandic plus bags, laughing hysterically as we balanced everything like a comedy sketch. Different from the Tube, but infinitely more fun.

Back onboard for the quickest boat tour in history (“Here’s your bunk, here’s the head, here’s where the magic happens, right, pub?”), then straight back into the dinghy for dinner and drinks ashore. The next morning we cast off lines and set sail for The Baths on Virgin Gorda, that jaw-dropping natural wonder of giant granite boulders, hidden grottoes, and shimmering pools that feels like Mother Nature decided to play architectural Tetris.

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Sailing there was mostly champagne conditions sun, steady breeze, everyone grinning until suddenly: BANG! The genoa starts flapping like a startled pigeon. I’m at the helm, staring at lines that all look suspiciously intact. Ian pops up: “What was that bang?” No idea. He dashes to the bow, spots the issue, and yells, “Ease the genoa halyard! Sheets too!” Chaos ensues, I’m shouting for Arno to mind the main while Ian and I wrestle the sail down. We secure it, limp under main alone to the anchorage, drop the hook, and dive straight into repairs. Miraculously, it was a straightforward fix, no rips, no jams, nothing catastrophic. The sail gods were clearly in a benevolent mood that day: a gentle reminder to stay sharp, but no proper drama. Thank you, universe.

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With the genoa triumphantly re-hoisted, we dinghied over to The Baths. Oh, loves, it’s every bit as magical as the photos promise. We scrambled through boulder mazes, waded into secret pools, popped out onto hidden beaches with water so clear it looked photoshopped. Pure joy, a proper adventure day out in Virgin Gorda snorkelling paradise.

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Back onboard, anchor up, and off to Savannah Bay to rendezvous with our ARC+ crew: Galatea of Aune, Adastrina, our rally friends who know exactly how to turn an anchorage into a floating reunion. True to form, the ARC+ rally meetup tradition kicked in: beach gathering, epic chats, cold drinks, laughter echoing across the water. Savannah Bay delivered again, snorkelling in crystal shallows, Ian wing-foiling like a pro, lazy beach walks, and that rare, perfect company that makes time stretch.

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After two dreamy nights, we sailed to Beef Island where the real fun ignited. The ARC+ gang had coordinated a Meet up for some British Virgin Islands full moon party at Trellis Bay, fire dancers, live music, glowing orbs, Moko Jumbies on stilts, the works. We danced until our feet protested, drinks flowed (responsibly, mostly), and the moon hung huge and golden. Yes, dear readers, if you’re thinking “they drink a lot,” guilty as charged on party nights, but trust me, there are plenty of sober sailing days, hydration-only afternoons, and quiet boat moments too. Balance, darlings!

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The girls rose bright-eyed the next morning; the boys… less so. We rallied for a quick snorkel around a sunken wreck—eerie, beautiful, fish darting through the history, then motored to Great Camanoe for lunch and an afternoon snorkel. Pure relaxation mode, because tomorrow was goodbye.

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Departure snuck up too fast. We savoured a long, lazy brunch together, packed bags with reluctance, then dinghied to Beef Island one last time. Walked them to the airport, luggage parade in tow, hugs that lingered, promises to reunite soon. Waving until they vanished through security felt oddly cinematic.

Now we’ve got about two and a half weeks left in these stunning BVI sailing adventures before turning south toward Grenada for hurricane season sailing. More anchorages, more sunsets, more unexpected magic ahead.

Until the next horizon, stay wild, stay salty, and keep the adventures coming.

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What about you, loves? Ever had a sail turn dramatic then miraculously fix itself? Danced under a full moon in the Caribbean? Or crammed a lifetime into five nights with friends? Spill in the comments—I’m here for every tale!

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