I remember the day we anchored at Chat & Chill in the Exumas, the white sand so bright it felt like the whole beach was glowing and the shallow water rippling like liquid glass. You two took your first brave bites of conch salad, one careful nibble and one bold chomp, before deciding that the real treasure of the day was the Shirley Temples. You drank them with sticky red smiles, your lips stained with grenadine, running back and forth between the shade and the shoreline, laughing like the whole island belonged to you.

Later, you joined a beach volleyball game, sand flying as you jumped in with the grownups as if you had been part of their team forever. That is where we met Clayton and Jill. They laughed with you both like you were already old friends instead of two little girls they had just met. None of us knew it then, but that sunny afternoon would become one of those rare gifts that kept appearing during our time at sea. Strangers became family in a heartbeat. Before long we were sailing through the islands together with Mitutu nearby, carrying that day with us in the easy way that sea friendships seem to grow.