Back to the Cays

One of the nice things about staying at Union Island is that its only four miles from the Tobago Cays. So, when the wind is too light to kiteboard, it's easy to go up there for the day. I had the pleasure of spending two such days in the past week, one with my kiteboarding instructor and his wife, from England, and the other with Colleen, a girl from Canada who lives and kiteboards in Texas. It's great to be able to share the place with people who appreciate it so much!

Alex and Sian

Colleen

One of the Ubiqitous Turtles

 

Iguana on One of the Cays

 

(Thanks to Alex and Sian for the last two pictures)

 

 

Kiteboarding

I've been wanting to learn to kiteboard for quite a few years now. I bought some used equipment about five years ago, got an informal lesson from a friend, then tried it on my own and realized that I needed some more instruction. But the instruction was very expensive, so my dream just languished. Well, I got here in the Grenadines and saw not only a lot of boarding going on, but found that there is a school here. I decided that I could either spend the money on a few lessons, or become an old man saying "I always wanted to do that some day." So, I've decided that I'm going to stay here around the school and other boarders until I become skilled enough to venture out on my own. I love learning new things!

 

Here is a link to a short promo video for the school/resort:

 

http://vimeo.com/29509409

 

 

Tobago Cays

I've been dreaming about sailing to the Tobago Cays for 30 years, since I read an article in Outside Magazine about how you could rent a boat and sail to this paradise. It wasn't in the cards for me then, but I kept it in the back of my mind. So, as I motor in through the southern passage, being very alert to the color of the water, since I read about how many boats have gone aground entering this way, I am actually excited! I like to tell people that I don't get that way, but this is one of those dream come true moments, and the scenery doesn't let me down. The Tobago Cays are five small islands, four of which are protected by the appropriately named Horseshoe Reef, which, in turn, is protected by the equally appropriately named World's End Reef, about two miles out. Beyond that, it is 2500 miles to western Africa. I can see both breaks, with astonishingly varied shades of blue all around.

The entire area is protected as a national park, with no fishing or hunting allowed. As a result, the waters are full of turtles - at one point while snorkeling, I saw four at the same time, with a large sting ray swimming under them. The reef fish are some of the best I've seen in the eastern Caribbean, as is the water clarity (vis, for my diving friends). I hike on one of the islands and find it well populated with iguanas and even see (and pick up, of course) a red footed tortoise which weighs at least 20 pounds. It's amazing how life recovers when harvesting is strictly regulated.

Even though its a national park, the government permits concessionaires, so a boat pulls along side in the morning and sells me a fresh baguette. I spend most of my time snorkeling, and this time of the year, the water is still so warm that even I don't get cold! Words can't do it justice, so here are a few pics:

 

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

Sad to say I'm on my way...

  It's with mixed emotions that I pull out of St George's harbor and head north.  So much has happened since I arrived here that night in early July.  This is the first passage I'll be making alone.  I motor sail in the light wind close to the west side of Grenada for the first two hours, and then, as soon as I clear the north end of the island, it's full on sailing for the next four hours. I clip my harness in, since I have to extra careful sailing alone.  I pass just to the west of the exclusion area for "Kick 'em Jenny", an underwater volcano. I don't smell any sulfur, so I guess it must not be active right now.  I pinch as high as I can, but I still end up two miles west of Tyrell Bay, Carriacou, and motor the rest of the way in.  I go ashore and immediately meet three cruising couples who invite me out to dinner with them.

  Carriacou is wonderful - the people are just as friendly as on the island of Grenada, but the water is clear.  I've been here a week now, gone for a couple hikes with other cruisers, attended a local house party, and spent two nights off a small island where I was the only boat around. While I was there, a local fishing boat came aside and sold me a lobster for my Thanksgiving dinner. There was a strong current near the island, so I paddled up and went for a "drift snorkel" over the nearby reef, tying the kayak to my wrist.  It was fun see the reef sliding by below me, but sadly, the coral is as dead here as in most of the other places I've been in the Caribbean.

  Here are a few pics:

Smallest Post Office in the World

Hiking in Carriacou

View from the Summit

"Thanksgiving Island"

The Mighty Sparrow

A couple weekends ago I had the chance to see The Mighty Sparrow, Grenada's most famous musician, perform live. He's known as the Calypso King, a contemporary of Harry Belafonte. I didn't even know he was still alive. Well, it turns out he barely is. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Our cruisers' bus arrives at The Spice Basket, a beautiful amphitheater up in the hills, an hour before the concert is scheduled to start. A few us us get front row seats, slightly off to the side, since the middle seats are reserved. I'm sitting between a cruising couple and my little buddy Tristan (the seven year old who lost his tooth on the hash) and his Mom. Of course, the event is on "Island Time" and doesn't get started for quite a while. Eventually, the center front row seats fill up with dignitaries, including the Prime Minister and his wife. Then, after the last person sits down on the end next to us, Tristan's Mom says "that's him"! The mighty Sparrow is sitting a few seats from us. But, it quickly becomes apparent that he is not well. As he is given accolades by various cultural ministers, he is nodding off. Interestingly, these politicians list off all their favorite songs, but no one mentions "Saltfish", a particularly bawdy song with very thinly veiled double entendres. The first set consists of local musicians performing his music, and he sleeps through about half of it. It gets even more interesting when he comes back (with his assistant) from a bathroom break and sits in Tristan's seat, while Tristan and his Mom are off getting food. Tristan comes running back with his food, looks up at the man in his seat, and he's not happy! I quickly give him my seat and move to the back of the theater. Eventually, they get another chair for The Sparrow (I don't know why they didn't move him back to his own seat) and there is room for all of us again. This proves very interesting when all his old friends come up to congratulate him during intermission. A group of young ladies seems to revive him significantly ;-) We're also sitting right next to him when the Prime Minister comes over to chat. The Prime minister has a very alert body guard who shadows him about ten feet away - he's wearing a loose shirt that hangs over his belt, but it's obvious enough that there's a gun under there.

Anyway, I have since heard various stories about what The Sparrow's health ailments are, including cancer and sickle cell anemia, but it is apparent that the idea of this concert was to pay tribute to the man while he is still alive. At this point, I would have bet that he wasn't even going to be able to take the stage. But, a few minutes later, he gets up and makes his way slowly to the backstage door. When he's introduced, he comes out, walks slowly over to the band, and says "Give me something in the key of "Saltfish". The crowd went wild! (particularly the women), and sang along with the whole song! In fact, we sang and gyrated to all five songs he played. Even though he has a hard time standing up, there's nothing wrong with his voice. I was grateful for the chance to see a legend.


http://www.myspace.com/music/player?sid=47624817&ac=now


 

Beautiful Grenada

  Today I took a tour of the island from a fellow who really knows the fauna.  He would just stop by the side of the road, hop out and grab a plant to show us.  At one place, we stopped and walked out into a small "plantation" which contained cocoa, coffee, cloves, cinnamon, oranges, and some other plants I can't even remember.  They grow them all together because they are more resistant that way.  And the fruits - bananas, mangoes, papayas, sapodilla, soursop, avocados - so much fruit that a lot of it falls on the ground and rots.  I have never seen such a bountiful place!  We swam in a waterfall, visited the rainforest, toured a cocoa bean processing facility, where they ferment and then dry the beans before they are shipped out to be processed into chocolate, and visited an amazing rum factory that still does things the old way.

The Flamboyant Trees  are in Bloom All Over the Island

Believe it or Not, These are Cocoa Beans

Grenada has So Many Flowers I Can't Keep them Straight!

In a Land Without Our Crazy Tort Laws, You are Actually Encouraged to Jump in the Waterfall

Monkey at Grand Etang Reserve

 The Monkey on My Back

 

This is Actually a Working Waterwheel which Runs the Cane Press at the Rum Mill

The Cane Press

 They Remove the Squeezed Out Cane Plants in this "Rail Car", then they are Dried and Burned to Boil the Cane Juice

Oh, by the Way, Rivers Only Sells this Rum Locally, and it's 150 Proof, so You Couldn't Bring it on an Airplane if You Wanted To.

Cuban Aircraft Stranded at the Old Airfield after the US Intervention - Handyman Special!

Frangipani Caterpillar

Cricket, Anyone?

   The cruisers' version of cricket is a lot like backyard softball...but, I'm still getting accustomed to those Brits ;-)

Hashing

  Yesterday I had the pleasure of attending my fist "hash".  It's a tradition which combines a brisk hike with socializing, food, beer, and a bit of that oh so odd British humor.

  More about it here:

http://onin.com/hhh/hhhexpl.html

http://www.grenadahash.com/

  Over 100 people showed up for the run/hike, a wonderful mix of cruisers and local Grenadians.  You actually pick from three distances, labeled "runner", "long walk" and "short walk".  Since it was Bastille Day, the French hosted the event, painting French flags on everyone's faces and encouraging everyone to wear red, white and blue, and giving a prize for the best costume.  I even saw one cruiser hashing in a French Maid's outfit!  We received our course briefing, followed by the French contingent signing La Marseillaise. Then with shouts of ON ON! we all streamed down the trail.  Some people run, some hike fast, and some just walk. The courses is marked by small piles of shredded paper and is laid out to maximize mud and adventure, and it also is designed so that there are several false trails leading to dead ends which require backtracking to find the right trail.  This course started along the ocean shore, then along pastures, through vegetable plots, small banana plantations, rain forest, and stream crossings.  I was lucky enough to spend about half the hike with a local Grenadian who educated me about the wild foods and medicines all around us.  He says he hashes every week, and I hope to see him next Saturday.

  So, after we make it back to the start, it's time for food, beer, and music!  In addition to the more standard fare of barbequed chicken and fish, the French prepare and serve crepes in honor of their day.  The "virgins", having completed their first hash are given a certificate and a beer shower, which I manage to avoid almost completely.  The leader of the French is forced to kneel before the British hashmaster and chug a beer while being doused with three more (a Carib is a terrible thing to waste) because before the run, he had forgotten the words to his own national anthem!  And that reminds me, don't ever wear new shoes to a hash - trust me, just don't ;-)

  Sorry I don't have any pictures, but it was pouring rain on the way there, so I didn't bring the camera.  The "bus" ride was interesting.  We packed 15 cruisers into a minivan and then stopped in town to pick up a couple more people.  An adorable seven year old boy was tucked in next to me.  He talked the whole ride and showed me his first loose tooth.  After the hash, he showed it to me again, this time taped to a napkin - he had knocked into a branch and found the tooth on the ground.  The funny thing is, he goes so fast that his Mom can't keep up, so he just calls her on his cell phone when he gets back to the start.  And yes, the Tooth Fairy does come to Grenada.

St George's, Grenada

  We finally finished getting the arch repaired, and we are back in the wind generating business.  It required a two night stay in a marina, which wasn't too bad, with hot showers and a pool - So this is how the other half lives!  Judy needed a health certificate in order to fly home with Spike, so she called the vet to come to the marina while we were there.  Yes, they make house calls here - in fact, he only charged EC$60 (about US$23!).  While he was looking over Spike and the paperwork, I noticed a woman and two kids hanging out on the dock and asked if they were his family - he said yes, so I said bring them aboard!  I gave the kids the tour and entertained them below while the grownups talked in the cockpit.  Seven year old Christopher especially liked watching the bilge pump work, of all things ;-)   Judy and Kathy Anne really hit it off and she invited us to go fishing the next day.  I had to stay and help reinstall the newly welded arch, but there was no reason why Judy couldn't go.  They caught quite a few "butterfish".  They have no worries about Ciguatera in Grenada - apparently, there isn't much here, so they eat every type of fish, reef or pelagic.

  Today we finally had time to stroll and shop the markets in St George's.  It was very interesting to walk through a tunnel that had one way auto traffic and two way pedestrian traffic (with no separation) and into busy open air markets full of $1 bootleg videos (yes, I bought a few, and no, I'm not feeling guilty about taking food out of Johnny Depp's mouth ;-).  And then, best of all, the spice and produce market.  There are no cruise ships this time of the year, so Judy and I stand out quite obviously from the crowd.  Which makes us very popular, because the already outgoing vendors know that we don't know the value of any of the produce, and that we are probably quite poor at bargaining as well.  Quite true, so we came home with a bunch of mangoes, avocados, spices I can't even name, and 'fig' bananas (WAY better than Cavendish, which is just about the only type available in the USA - in fact, every Cavendish banana is genetically identical, similar to the Bartlett pear), but both us and the vendors were quite happy about the deal.  Prices can be quite expensive for some things here, but they are very cheap for the produce which is grown on island - and they can grow just about anything!

Kathy Anne and her friend Shawn, who owns the wooden fishing boat

Shawn hamming it up

From Fort George - a lot of history here, some fairly recent - this is where Maurice Bishop was murdered (executed) by the coupists prior to the US intervention in 1983

The view from the fort into the harbor, or the 'Carenage', as it is called

The Market

With Teresa, the Spice Lady - Grenadian people tend to be very friendly, and Teresa loves to give hugs!

Look at that pair of mangoes!

Down to the Little Latitudes

  I like ocean sailing, I really do.  Just not at night.  Why do things always go wrong at night?

  We get ready to leave Statia, taking advantage of a forecast for east winds (not the ESE that prevails this time of the year) and no storms.  Also, the moon is past half full, so that means we will have it for more than half the night, then brighter and longer the next night.  I row the dinghy in to clear out and give Spike his final walk.  While I'm gone, the Coast Guard (Netherlands?)  stops at the boat and wants to see the ship's papers.  Judy tells them that I just took the paperwork in to clear out.  They tell her not to leave until they come back to check it.  I get back and finish getting ready to sail, still no Coast Guard.  After trying them unsuccessfully on the radio we haul anchor and leave at 10 AM.  (We'd probably still be there waiting.)  I'm figuring on a 54 hour trip to Grenada, and I want to arrive before dark on Saturday.  We are taking the "shortcut" inside the arc of the Lesser Antilles. This way we won't be going to wind, and should be able to sail the whole way, between a close reach and a beam reach.  We've just run out of time for exploring this year - Judy needs to go home for her business, and I want to get the boat settled in for hurricane season.  Next winter we will take our time and stop at each island on our way north - we may not even make it to the Virgin Islands, there is so much to see and explore down here!

Saying Goodbye to Statia

  It's nice being able to see St Kitts and Nevis for all of the first day, although downwind of St Kitts we lose the wind for a while and have to motor sail for a couple hours.  Then it fills back in in less than two minutes, and we have smooth sailing into the night.  The moon sets about 1AM, and shortly after I'm in the cockpit when I am alerted by the autopilot off course alarm.  I take it off auto, and find that I can only move the helm to one side.  I immediately check the autopilot ram arm, under the aft bunk, since these are the same symptoms we had when the ram malfunctioned while we were sailing with Brandy and Aaron.  Fortunately, everything is fine there.  Then I go back up, make my way to the stern, and shine a light down to the rudder, while holding the dinghy away, so that I can see between it and the transom.  There's the problem - a line is caught.  I shine the light over the dinghy and get a big surprise - a couple of plastic balls with line trailing out from them - we are stuck on this ???? whatever it is, and we're not moving.  We are 50 miles from the nearest land in 5000 feet of water - what is this thing doing out here?!?  It's absolutely maddening, but we are stuck, dead in the water, and now taking seas on the stern.  Somehow I manage to get the sails down, even though we are dead downwind.  At least it's not howling, and the seas are only 4 to 5 feet.   Next, I need to get the dinghy off the davits and out of the way, so that I can try to cut the line.  The waves are hitting the dinghy, and before I can get it launched and safely to the side of the boat, a weld cracks on the new arch for the windmill, which is attached to the davits.  I guess that wasn't such a good design, after all.  I strap and brace the broken joint with lines, and it holds.  By the time I get the dinghy around to the side, it is almost fully swamped, with the gas can floating around.  I stay harnessed to the boat while I step into the dinghy to bail it out - it's going up and down about 4 feet in relation to the boat.  And it's dark out.  With that done, it's time to try to free the boat from the line.  I tie a knife to the boat hook, but it's very quickly apparent that that's not going to do anything.  I will need to hold the line in one hand and saw with the other.  Which means I'm going swimming.  Not in the dark.  We go to bed for the hour left until daylight, stuck on a stupid buoy with a bunch of writing on it that appears to be attached to the bottom, 50 miles west of Guadaloupe.  At dawn, I put on wetsuit and harness, tie myself to the boat, go down the swim ladder off the stern, and quickly get away from the boat.  Luckily, the wind is down to 9 knots with 3 to 4 foot seas.  I swim over to the buoys and cut the line there.  The boat immediately starts drifting downwind, but the motion is much smoother now that it's moving with the waves, and I'm able to go down and cut the line off the prop, which is where it was hung up.  Fortunately, it was not wrapped around the shaft at all.  Then, it's back on board, haul the dinghy onto the deck, deflate and strap it (the way I should have done to begin with, but I'd been getting away with it on the davits as long as I removed the motor first), then raise the sails and get under way again.  What a nightmare, but six hours after coming to a halt, we are back on our way.  I still have no idea what it was - best guess is a derelict fishing line.

  The wind gets very light during the day, causing us to motor sail for a few hours.  It fills in abruptly before evening.  Just before I'm going to pull in the fishing line for the night, we get our only hit of the passage, and I start pulling in the hand line.  It's a midsized Mahi Mahi!  I know that because I saw him quite clearly when he jumped clear of the water.  Which was when he spit the hook out.  Damn, it sure would have tasted good.  We reef both sails before dark, and it's a good thing, too, because just after dark the wind blows at 25 knots for 3 hours, making the boat heel too much and making me wonder if I'm going to need to reef again, but it finally lets up and the rest of the night is uneventful.  The last day of sailing is quite smooth once we get in the lee of the Grenadines, and we can see them well before dark.  Once again, we have to motor sail for a couple hours during the afternoon.  So much for the consistent trade winds.  Due to our unplanned delay the first night, we make port at night, but it's under a bright moon which is high in the sky, and we drop anchor just before 10PM.  Time for a drink!

We put up this lee cloth on passages, so that we can sleep without rolling out of bed.

Statia

  We had a very relaxing day sail to Statia (St Eustatius) on Sunday and checked in yesterday morning.  A dolphin saw us off as we rounded the point of St Martin. It was a very clear day, with none of that Saharan dust to haze up the air, and we could see Saba, St Barts, and St Kitts, as well as St Martin and Statia.  Very scenic.  No fish on the line while enroute, but when I reeled in the lure, the wire leader was cut about a foot from where the lure used to be - must have been a shark, I guess.  We encountered a few small boats and one Tropical cargo ship near St Martin, but then no other boats until we neared Statia, where we had to go out and around several huge oil tankers and tugs.  They have a very large oil trans-shipment and storage facility on the northwest side of the island.  I still can't figure out why it's here, but it has the capacity for 13 million barrels of petroleum product.  I really like the island, though - the little town is quaint and clean, and there is almost no risk of crime, quite unlike St Martin.  One day I hiked up the dormant volcano and into the rain forest crater along with Ari and Mya of Skye.  The next day Judy and I went SCUBA diving.  You are required to go with a dive shop here, since it is all protected park.  The coral was a lot more colorful that what we've been seeing while snorkeling.  It worked out perfectly, because we had our own private dive master, which was a great way to get back into it.  It was very enjoyable, and we hope to do more soon.  I feel so relaxed down there!  We would have loved to stay longer, but it was time to head south.

 A wild Papaya growing in The Quill crater.

Silk Cottonwood tree with Strangler vines.

Ari and Mya, of Skye (They left New York in May, and are heading around the world).

The only town on the Island is very quaint.

We'll be back to Statia!

St Martin

  St Martin is very interesting.  It's certainly a good deal more cosmopolitan that I'm accustomed to - we are not here to dive or snorkel the reefs.  But, it is quite unlike being in the Caribbean - on the French side, it seems like being in Europe - you may hear several different languages being spoken at any one time - often involving the same person.  On the "Dutch" side, it seems a bit like being back in the USA  (I don't know what the official language is, but American English is most certainly, at least, the unofficial language, and the US dollar is the currency of commerce.)  Once you have checked into either country, you may travel freely between the two - in fact, since we travel by dinghy, I'm never even sure where the border is.  We are here because St Martin (or Siint Maarten, or various other spellings, depending which side you are on) is known as the place with the best selection and cheapest prices on marine equipment in the entire eastern Caribbean.  Well, that's not saying too much.  Still, I've completed some minor boat projects which needed attention.

  But, the big draw for me was the chance to stand about 10 feet below landing jets - I've seen photos and videos for years, and I wanted to experience it for myself. The runway threshold is literally just feet from the boundary fence, which is backed by a road and a beach.  We took a short bus ride to the Driftwood Boat Bar and waited for the incoming jets.  Some daredevils like to stand in the jets blast of departing planes - those folks are fun to watch.

We had to tuck Spike down into this bag in order to smuggle him aboard the buses.

KLM 747 on short final.

Over the beach.

I totally missed the money shot where the wheels just clear the fence!

The daredevils.

Are we having fun yet?

Note:  No animals were harmed during the filming of this blog post.