"Drink it," demands my wife, pointing to the painkiller still in my hand. It's easy for her to push this. Unlike me, she won't be windsurfing in the morning. In fact, of the 135 participants in this year's Highland Spring HIHO, only 35 are windsurfers. That means the majority of tonight's pirates will sleep late tomorrow on their respective 43-foot, HIHO-provided catamarans, then spend the day cruising on board, taking in the sights, snorkeling and, yes, recovering. We windsurfers don't have that last luxury. Our daily races blaze the path that our flotilla of 19 catamarans follows, with the last race finishing where the HIHO fleet moors for the night. We've done this routine for four windy days, weaving through the Eustatia Sound of Virgin Gorda, over to the coral island of Anegada, and now to Tortola. Each day has included a lunch stopover on a remote, screen-saver-worthy beach, where we've eaten like kings, frolicked like kids and enjoyed the company of fellow HIHOers -- many of whom are veterans of the event, and hail from places like Italy, France, the UK, Australia -- you name it. "You've got to be loving this," says Roddy Grimes-Graeme, an Antiguan windsurfer, nodding toward my wife, whose provocative dancing remains in full swing.