i actually sailed by monserrat the day the volcano blew. i left
nevis at 3 am under a very strange, blood red moon with all the
dogs ashore barking like mad. i even mentionned mt st helen's to my partner at the time, as the
dogs barked in the same crazy manner that night and i guess i speak dog. the sun had risen when we reached monserrat. the smoke was very thick, couldn't see the bow of the
boat, and i went below which was also full of smoke with my two little dogs, refusing my trick at the
helm for the first (and only) time in my personal
history because my partner refused to tack to the
east coast, saying that it was only 14nm or somesuch and we had the tack. big cargo ships were exiting the piers and i heard them on the
radio but couldn't see or hear anything; we were about 2nm
offshore. one said he was headed for
antigua and i was relieved he was going the other way. it was like sailing through a swirling ashtray and i was thinking the doggies were like
canaries in a coal mine. when we cleared the southern tip of the island, we could see again; monserrat was inside of a grey smoke bomb, chunks of rock plopping into the sea.
plymouth was such a great town.