^TM

The three huge sails of the 85-foot catamaran Lone Star whisper us through the calm waters of the British Virgin Islands. The 14-knot trade wind ruffles our hair and the warm sun is softened by occasional puffs of cloud. It is a day like most days here when the sea charms rather than threatens.

And we are free. Free to roam where we wish through island paradises. Free to enjoy gourmet meals prepared by our personal chef. Free to walk deserted beaches or observe the luminous life beneath the surface of the Caribbean's clear, turquoise water.

We are the temporary masters of our own boat, a floating hotel that offers every advantage of big-liner cruising without the crowds, the hassles or the group shopping forays for bargain amethyst on shore.

The week's mood is set as the remains of our first dinner, a succulent Caribbean lobster, are cleared away. Mark Thompson, the captain of our chartered yacht, spreads his map of the British Virgin Islands across the table. "Snorkeling, scuba diving, sailing, doing nothing," he says. "Anything you want. We can drop anchor just about anywhere."

Thompson is a doughty, outspoken Australian seaman, a former real estate developer in Melbourne. About a decade ago, when he was flush with money and driving a BMW, Thompson decided to make a career change and do what he most loves: sailing. On this, our first night, his goal is to find out what those of us on board the Lone Star this week want to accomplish on our trip.

One of our group of six admits that she has always wanted to learn to wind surf. "By the greatest coincidence," he smiles, drawing out his vowels Australian style, "we just happen to have a wind surfer on the board." As it turns out, he also happens to have a couple of kayaks and a small sunfish-type sailboat. The 17-foot Zodiac, a powerful run-about tender, also does a good job of trailing water skiers.

Thompson encourages good times and inspires confidence, while making it clear that he will run a safe ship. He earned his Yacht Master certification in England and ran a fleet of catamarans in Turkey before he found the Lone Star in San Tropez. With the approval of new owner Pete Smith, Mark bought the boat and began customizing it, a process that seems ongoing. When an elderly couple chartered the boat for a family vacation, he observed that their 85-year-old grandmother had difficulty clambering over one wall. Mark insisted that a passageway be cut to enable easier access.

That attitude reflects the week's attitude as our captain and crew made sure that every whim was satisfied, that every taste and food preference was catered to, and every day was perfect for each guest. There was only one absolute rule: no shoes permitted in the Lone Star. At the end of the day (a phrase Captain Mark enjoys saying as he summarizes his thoughts) being on board the Lone Star was one of the best, most varied and relaxed vacations we've ever had.

The boat that was our home that week is a pretty amazing conveyance. The Lone Star is a huge sloop-rigged catamaran, 85 feet in length that sleeps, at most, 12 guests in six staterooms. Each of these is equipped with a full, but understandably small, private bath. The Lone Star's living room, which is about 30-feet wide, is a pleasant place to sit in the evening and watch recent-release DVDs which Captain Mark projects on a five-foot screen.

Our movie choices for the week were decidedly bizarre for a cruise. One night we screen Dead Calm, an Australian film about a madman terrorizing a couple aboard a sailboat.

The Lone Star was so enticing that one passenger refused to get off the boat-while we snorkeled he watched Titanic. The only way he could be convinced to go ashore for dinner one night was because he was guaranteed that the restaurant didn't require shoes.

To handle the chores of such a vessel, the Lone Star employs a crew of five: the captain, a chef, a backup chef, a stewardess and (although he was not on board with our small group) an engineer. The crew's quarters are completely separated from the rest of us-so separate, in fact, that we had been on board for two days before it occurred to us to wonder where they slept.

All are Australian. Our chef, Terry Brady, 36, owned a couple of restaurants and won Gold Medals as the Fine Dining Chef at three different Sheridan resorts in Australia. One of Terry's most spectacular dinners included chicken breasts perched on portobello mushrooms and smothered in a creamy wine-mushroom sauce. As always, it was accompanied by Terry's homemade bread.

One member of our group was a vegetarian who ate fish. Another was allergic to bell peppers and strawberries. They mentioned those requirements only once and from then on every meal accommodated their needs. We were especially impressed one day when our vegetarian friend wanted to taste Caribbean food on shore. Since that request would have kept the rest of us hostage to that locale, Terry provided an alternative. He produced a Caribbean lunch, with grilled chicken for us and grilled fish for her that had been marinated and topped with a local curry.

When Pete W. Smith, the owner and a proud Texan, arrived, dinner was his favorite: short ribs. They were tender, juicy, marinated in a wonderful sauce, and perfectly barbecued. Terry, and his assistant Mike, were so willing to share their culinary secrets, that at times it seemed like an ad hoc cooking seminar, which has affected our home cooking ever since.

Our stops included Norman Island, which Robert Louis Stevenson made famous as "Treasure Island," where we snorkeled on Angel Fish Cay. On our way out, we sailed past the Bight, an area pocked with caves where, we were told, gold doubloons left over from pirate days were recently found.

As we streaked along the Sir Francis Drake channel, a stiff wind accompanied us, but the Lone Star's wide body barely rolled. That, we discovered, is one of the big advantages of a large catamaran with two hulls instead of the one found on sailboats.

The next day we step on shore at a tiny, picture perfect island called Sandy Cay, taking only 10 minutes to walk around the entire island which was decorated by a single palm tree. This could have been a home for Gilligan.

One day when everyone else was snorkeling, Norman SCUBA dived to the Royal Mail Steamer Rhone, which was wrecked on the rocks of Salt Island in 1867. The wreck, which lies 25-to-90-feet deep, is open to divers, thanks to the rocks that tore the ship apart and some help from an American underwater demolition team in the 1950s. The hatch of the Rhone was featured in The Deep, a film best remembered for Jacqueline Bisset's brief but impressive appearance in a wet T-shirt.

We also sailed to Anegada, the most remote of the British Virgins. It is an atoll that can barely be seen until a boat is nearly upon it. This was our one night to dine off the boat, but Terry's cooking had spoiled us for anything else. The gigantic lobsters at Neptune's Treasure, fabled in the BVI, paled in comparison to our chef's efforts.

On our last day, we dropped anchor near Virgin Gorda, where we went ashore to visit the Bitter End Yacht Club, a watering place for British sailors. At nearby Saba Rock, the drinks were served allegedly by the same woman whose nude picture enhanced the rum bottle label.

During the course of our week, we visited another catamaran: the 65-foot Shangri-La, which sleeps a maximum of eight. It is captained by Tess and her husband Ryszard, who served a tasty lunch of crispy greens amply peppered with jumbo prawns. The experience proved that there is a variety of excellent choices if one wishes to charter.

Yacht chartering, however, is still a well kept secret. Lone Star owner Pete Smith said that nine out of ten people have never even heard of this type of cruise and, "if they know about it, they're under the misconception that they can't afford it."

The Lone Star sleeps 12 persons in 6 cabins en suite, 2 are singles, the other four are queens. At up to $33,000 per week for up to six couples, it only seems prohibitive until we realized that the price includes meals, drinks, excursions, and water "toys." Ten people can cruise at $317 per person per day, while a dozen vacationers cost only $275 per person/day. At that price, cruising on your own 85-foot sailing palace compares favorably with many other vacation choices.

(At present, most of these boats are only rented in their entirety. Only a few of the luxury yachts offer individual cabin rentals on the theory that people in somewhat close quarters should have something in common before the vacation starts.)

Families and close friends seem to find it a great way to vacation together. The Lone Star has been used for a team-building business trips for senior executives. Bare boat charters-boats without crews—are also available, of course, but require competent sailing skills: those reefy shoals can-and do—pop up anywhere.

At the end of the day, as Captain Mark would say, cruising the Caribbean was a world-class vacation with all the quiet time we needed and all the activity we wanted. The food, the sunsets, the crew and the sailing were perfect-and incomparable. Living aboard the Lone Star can best be described as barefoot luxury.

Norman Mark is a travel writer and broadcast personality. Grace Mark is a travel writer, corporate communications producer and novelist. The couple lives in Mill Valley, CA.

LINKS

Back to TravelLady Magazine