Antigua is a lovely island in the which claims to have 365 beautiful beaches – one for every day of the year. The only problem is that on some days you'd run the risk of being blown away by hurricane. It surprises me that the colourful wooden huts that most people live in survive so well, but of course they are in well-chosen sheltered spots.

Antigua is half way along the , so called because the prevailing wind comes from the south east; the more southerly part of the chain are named Windward Islands because the wind hits them first. For two hundred years the leading European countries fought for possession of these islands and Britain chose Antigua as their main base. In the eighteenth century the Navy built in the south of Antigua and most of the original buildings are still in use today. As a lieutenant, Horatio Nelson was posted there from 1784 to 1787 and so the business end of the Harbour is named Nelson's Dockyard. In the nineteen fifties many of the Nicholson family – of yacht designer fame – moved to Antigua and built it into the wonderful sailing venue that it is today.

My theory is that many of the incomers who live in and around English Harbour originally set off to sail around the world and, after crossing the Atlantic, said to themselves 'enough of that – this'll do nicely' and cast a permanent anchor there.

One group formed the Royal Naval Tot Club of Antigua and (www.royal- naval-tot-club.com) to continue the tradition of the six o'clock rum which the stopped in 1967. If ever you are there at that time of day you will find some of them standing around in a circle, one hand holding a glass of water and the other a massive tot of Pusser's rum. A brief ceremony ensues with a reading from the history of the Royal Navy celebrating an anniversary that day, followed by any local announcements and completed by the Royal Toast for that day of the week – on a Saturday it is 'Sweethearts and wives – may they never meet. And the Queen, God Bless Her!' Then the rum is downed in one shot – it's a helluva way to start the evening! Of the similarities with ACIP is the welcome to a friendly social group in a foreign place; significant contributions to local charities; and a source of useful information.

Until recently you could have met Canadian Bob (Williamson) who was, at one time, a miner in the Yukon. Later in life he built up a successful graphic design business in London but a heart attack persuaded him to change his lifestyle. As a writer he published many stories, one of which was his trip to Russia to have built a replica of the old sailing galleons, in 3 inch thick softwood! Getting together a scratch crew of eccentrics he then sailed her across the Atlantic to Antigua. Some of the antics of this crew are very entertaining and were included amongst Bob's many published short stories. His boat appeared very briefly in the film 'Pirates of the Caribbean'.

14 nautical miles from Antigua is a rock named . At one time a source of guano it is now populated only by boobies and other birds but, somehow, there exists the title 'King of Redonda'. Bob heard about this and bought the title for a couple of pints of beer, on condition that he sail to Redonda, overcome any local resistance, plant his royal standard at the highest point and proclaim himself King in persuasion of the local population. The boobies offered no resistance and so Bob became King (King Bob the Bald). He then created beautiful designs for flags, labels, and other marketable items. The labels he put onto bottles of local Antiguan rum that he sold at every opportunity - making a profit, of course. See www.thekingdomofredonda.com.

Around English Harbour there were also crack addicts and beggars that everyone knew. Skinny as a rake, Jacko had an open face and a friendly willingness to help with any project to earn money. He stood out because he usually wore ladies clothing, quite probably stolen off a washing line somewhere. The sight of Jacko in a frilly pink ladies blouse, a skirt, and yellow wellingtons from which he had cut the toes always brightened the day.

Another character was Byron, who lost a leg in a car accident but could move darned fast when an opportunity for money appeared. First time we met he quoted Shakespeare to me but, sadly, sometimes he was no more than a stuttering wreck. On one occasion, when I returned to the island after several months he said 'we don't see you for a year and then up ye feckin' pop like a wee Irish leprechaun!' - which made me feel honoured in some strange way.

Corporal John was in charge of the Customs Office at English Harbour. He knew everything that happened there, as well as having the most complicated signature I have ever seen. Legally, visiting sailors were allowed six months stay and had to renew their status to stay longer. A French Customs post at the north end of Guadeloupe stocked a supply of Customs forms and so, as the end of six months approached, every foreign yacht would leave English Harbour and go to Green Island on the other side of Antigua. One or two would actually sail to Guadeloupe, pick up a bunch of these French forms, and return to Green Island on Antigua. For years everyone would fill in the forms and then return to English Harbour as though they had been to Guadeloupe. Then Phil and Mona had their wedding party at Green Island and Corporal John was invited. With a drink in hand, Corporal John of the Antiguan Customs Force, now amongst friends, looked around the place and said 'so this is what Guadeloupe looks like!'. He had a wonderfully commonsense view of life.

Much of Antigua was denuded of trees by the English sailors in the eighteenth century but a small part of the original forest still exists. The rest is scrubby and full of goats but you can find little wild mangoes which are delicious, and make any ramble worthwhile. But for me Antigua will always be special because it is where I met my wonderful wife, Jen.