Our stay in the marina was fairly brief. There were no other boats awaiting fueling so the tanks were topped off in just a few minutes and the water tanks refilled. The young guy helping us seemed to enjoy the opportunity to service the 3 lovely, scantily dressed sailors. I'm sure that contributed to our efficient stop. In less than 30 minutes we were casting off the dock and headed back out the cut on our way to Buck Island.
Shortly after getting back into open ocean and turning for our run to Buck Island, Amanda announced that we could resume our previous dress code. I think all four of us were naked in less than 5 seconds. I gathered up all the discarded swimsuits and stowed them below deck in the main salon.
The wind had picked up enough to allow us to go completely under sail and maintain about 6 knots speed. Amanda had installed me behind the wheel with instructions to maintain our heading while she moved around the sails, perfecting their trim. She then laid down beside Connie and Liz who were reclining at the front of the boat. It was hard to stay focused on the compass and our course with the scenery of these nude women stretched out in front of me.
Buck Island is a National Monument along the northeast corner of St. Croix. It has been under government protection since 1948 and became a National Monument under the administration of JFK in 1961. More recently the park area was expanded to include more of the underwater reef. The island, only a mile and a half long, was straight ahead of us and, at the clip we were going we were closing in to our anchorage point in just over an hour.
It was an invigorating feeling being at the helm of a beautiful yacht plying across the Caribbean Sea with nubile naked nymphs stretched out on the deck in front of me, soaking in the suns rays. I could have enjoyed the trip for hours but in too short a time the boat was nearing the place where we would anchor.
All three girls got up from their lounging mats, Amanda and Liz coming back to the cockpit to take over the helm. I was sent back to the mast with Connie to help with the sails and anchor. There were no other boats at the small beach we were approaching and, given this privacy, it didn't seem necessary to get dressed. Connie did put on some gloves to handle the lines and handed another pair to me.
"You don't want any blisters," she warned, "and you certainly want to watch out for your dangling bits. Getting caught up in a line would spoil the day, no doubt!"
The genoa sail wrapped around its furling roller at the touch of a button. On Amanda's signal, we worked together to drop the mainsail and gather it against the boom. The boat slowed its approach into the little sandy cove and Amanda turned until we faced the wind, coming to a stop about 50 yards off shore. Connie then had me pull the pin on the winch and the anchor rode dropped into the water. There was a nice breeze and this pushed against the hull until the anchor caught in the sandy bottom.
"Well guys," said Amanda, "that was a great little sail. Now, the pool is open!"
The breeze that had propelled us to this island dream helped relieve the sweat I'd worked up during the anchoring maneuver but I was still ready to get wet. Before jumping into the water, Liz and I passed a cooler and basket down to the dingy where Connie was ready to ferry our lunch supplies to the beach. There were no other boats anywhere to be seen so we elected to continue our naked day. Amanda stepped down into the small boat with her sister but Liz and I elected to swim in, not a particularly strenuous distance considering our usual morning swim but a welcome way to cool off. We both stepped of the side and began a leisurely stroke to the beach.
I was glad that Liz had remembered the swim goggles so we could enjoy the sights on the ocean bottom beneath us and it was handy to see the approaching shore line to avoid a couple of small coral heads in the shallow water and find a sandy spot for our exit.
The sisters had already spread out a blanket and set out the towels and some food for our lunch but I needed to dry off a bit before sitting to join them. Leaving Liz there, I turned to walk down the beach around a little point jutting out into the ocean. The white sand strand continued ahead of me for at least another quarter mile before turning around another point. This was a perfect way to stretch my legs out after the brief swim and I happily took off at as fast a pace as the sand allowed.
Rounding the second point the sand continued its uninterrupted ribbon, a bright white against the blue of the small ocean waves. I'd worked up quite a sweat by then and, after downing a fair amount of water during the sail, needed to take a brief break. Since the "solution to pollution is dilution" I waded out into the water to cool off and take a bladder break. I floated happily around watching the distant shore of the main island as boats ran back and forth until I was ready to head back for refreshment and lunch.
Turning back to the beach behind me I saw a group of about 4 people strolling down the beach headed to my left. This had them going the same direction I need to be headed to get back to my girls. I could see that these were all women but it was difficult to tell how old they might be. One was wearing either a one piece bathing suit or a tankini but the rest were in two piece suits.