I opened the French windows that first morning and this is what I saw.


Peter and our garden gate leading to our private beach.


Our faithful dinghy waiting to take us anywhere we desired.


Peter and the magic dinghy.

Coming from a freezing Swiss winter, muffled up in sheepskins, now I was beginning to get a tan.

The new owners of the turquoise umbrella.


Sailing to Bequia.

Sailing to Bequia.