The Long Way to French Side: Our BVI to St. Martin Passage

BVI to St.Martin a 25 hour upwind sailing passage

We checked in at Soper's Hole, enjoyed a great meal, and restocked our pantry before making our way through the chain of islands. The original plan was simple: explore the BVI for a bit, then make the jump to St. Martin.

We anchored the dinghy and swam in to the park at The Baths, then did the full hike through the boulder caves — squeezing between giant granite rocks, ducking through narrow passages, popping out into hidden pools of turquoise water. It was spectacular, and Sophia loved every second of it. On the swim back, we snorkeled through some of the clearest water we've ever seen — almost Bahamas-level visibility.

We also spent time at Saba Rock and Bitter End Yacht Club, soaking in that classic BVI sailing-village vibe. Sophia even got her photo at the iconic British phone booth — a little rite of passage for anyone who's spent time at Bitter End.

Then the transmission decided it had other plans.Before we could even think about leaving Virgin Gorda, we had a problem to solve. When we pulled the transmission apart to diagnose what was going on, the verdict was immediate and unambiguous — sheared gears. No repair was going to fix that. We needed a new transmission, full stop.

So we settled into Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbour and got to work. The yard mechanic helped us track down the new transmission and got it shipped in fast, which saved us from an even longer wait. Once it arrived, Tony installed it himself. About a week after pulling apart that sheared mess, we had a brand new transmission in place.

While we waited on parts, we booked a trip with a local dive shop and finally dove the RMS Rhone — our deepest dive yet at 74 feet. It was incredible, and a welcome distraction from boat projects.

We took Bogumila out for a test run before committing to anything bigger. It ran clean. No drama, no second-guessing — just relief that this part of the saga was finally behind us.

Two weeks total on the dock. Longer than we wanted. We missed some good weather windows, and the chance to travel down with fellow sailors we'd met along the way. But we're hoping to catch up with them soon — a new window looks promising next week. By the time we cast off for St. Martin, we trusted the boat completely.

We knew the departure window wasn't going to be pretty. The forecast called for 14 to 17 knots with gusts to 18 to 20, all on the nose. But the weather windows were closing up, and at some point we realized we were one of the last boats still sitting in

the anchorage. It was time. We either go

now or we might not go at all.So we went.

Leaving Virgin Gorda, we headed south first to get a better angle on the waves — and it made a real difference. The seas were running 3.5 to 4.5 feet every five and a half seconds, uncomfortable but manageable. We knew Bogumila could handle it, no problem. The first half we were making a decent 4 to 5.5 knots. But halfway through we turned harder east, and that's when things slowed down. A lot. The last stretch we were grinding, averaging 3.7 knots overall — the kind of speed where you stare at the GPS and wonder if the island is actually getting closer or just mocking you.And then there was the sargassum.

The Eastern Caribbean has been thick with it this season, and we felt every bit of it. The raw water strainer kept clogging, over and over, which meant stopping to clean it out numerous times along the way. It was tedious, it was annoying, and it made a slow passage even slower. But we kept moving.Twenty-five hours after leaving the BVI, St. Martin appeared on the horizon. We were tired. But we were so, so happy.

Then came the tradition: Tony and Sophia raised the flag together, just like they do every time we arrive somewhere new.The moment we cleared in, we ran to grab our packages — boxes piled up in the dinghy, finally in hand after weeks of waiting. Then came the part Sophia had been dreaming about the entire passage: French food. Tony went straight for escargot. I found a chocolate pistachio pastry that may have ruined all other pastries for me going forward. And Sophia got her fresh baguettes, clutched in a paper bag like the treasure they were.

We also took a ride over to the Dutch side to pick up some boat parts — because even on arrival day, the to-do list doesn't fully stop.

That evening, we stopped for a meal together as a family. Sitting there, the whole crew was just thankful. Thankful we made it, thankful for the boat, thankful for each other.

It's hard to believe how far we've come. From Connecticut down the ICW, through the Bahamas, the USVI, the BVI, and now here — French side, St. Martin. We're officially over 11,000 nautical miles now. Every mile adds up to something bigger than the sum of its hard moments.We made it. And we're so grateful for every mile it took to get here.