We decided on a night time crossing from Trinidad to Grenada. At about 90 miles with light winds we expected it to take us about 18 hours and therefore left Chaguaramas (a rare departure with light, not heavy, hearts) just after lunch. As Chaguaramas is extremely sheltered, there is little indication in the Bay what the wind and swell are doing off shore so despite having poured over weather charts and information for days beforehand we came out to sea with a little trepidation…only to find we had a preposterous westerly wind. Let me explain. The trade winds always blow from east to west so the wind hardly ever comes from the west, but for the first hour or so there we were with a north easterly swell of about 5 feet and steady westerly winds at about Force 4….not unpleasant but just inconceivable for the Caribbean. Sure enough, the wind started to nudge round slowly, as if trying to’ style out’ its mistake imperceptibly so we wouldn’t notice, until at last it was back in the east which is only right and proper. We continued on, straight up the rum line on our chart, enjoying a beautiful sunset and moonrise with millions of stars studding the heavens. We felt truly liberated from the ties that had held us captive in Trinidad for rather too long. As we took turns at watches we both experienced that ‘great to be alive’ feeling. But hang on…don’t get too carried away in the moment! At about 2 a.m. we realised with some alarm that blissful and swift though this sail was, we were going to arrive in Grenada before dawn which was not in our plans. The entrance to Le Phare Bleu – the marina into which we were booked – was tricky due to the encircling coral reefs. There is a buoyed channel but we could not ascertain whether these buoys were lit at night. We tried to waste some time by reefing the sails rather unnecessarily but still found ourselves off the entrance at 0430 with no sign yet of Mr Sun making an appearance. Gingerly we picked our way through the little channel through the reef with our bright search light trying to pick out the buoys as we went and relying on way-points from our pilot book. Then it was fenders and lines on and by 5 we were safely tied up alongside in Le Phare Bleu and tucking ourselves up in bed for some well-earned and very contented sleep.
We had last visited Le Phare Bleu in May and had promised ourselves a return visit – so impressed were we by the resort. It is comprised of separate individual self-catering guest chalets close to the beach and marina. Centrally, there is a complex including a laundry, little shop, swimming pool, bar and restaurant. There is also, wonder of wonders, a customs and immigration office just there on the boardwalk! You will be aware by now, dear Valiant Regular Reader, how much of a pain the clearing in and clearing out process can be. In Trinidad and Tobago it is especially onerous -about 6 forms with carbon paper usually complimented by a particularly surly and draconian service. What a difference here in Grenada! A smiley, friendly efficient customs man apologising profusely that his immigration colleague had been caught up in another yachtie haven, Prickly Bay, down the coast. He told us that he would bring our clearance papers and stamped passports back to the boat when everything was completed – an overwhelmingly gracious gesture in the circumstances. This set the tone for the whole of our stay in Le Phare Blue: outstanding service and attention to detail.
All good things must come to an end however, so having made contact with some of our co-Chaguaramas inmates who had also made the break to Grenada we sailed west along the Grenadian coast to the aforementioned Prickly Bay to meet them. Again, we had visited the Bay during our previous visit in May so were familiar with this massive protected Bay which is a favourite yachtie haunt, buzzing with social events and happenings in the local bars and hostelries – not to mention between the boats themselves. We availed ourselves of the shopping opportunity organised by the local bar to the massive European-style shopping Mall near the capital St. Georges which was new territory to us. There we were excitedly able to buy most of our Christmas grocery supplies including a turkey breast for our tiny freezer. We also spent our time in Prickly Bay having a daily walk along the rocky, indented coast with our friends to different bars and resorts, thereby getting a much better feel for Grenadian geography, wildlife and culture, including some of the extensive damage caused by their last hurricane – Ivan – still visible 10 years on.
Our drive to leave the Bay and our friends behind us (although they were shortly to follow us), was driven by our urge to see Carriacou – a Grenadian island about 45 miles north east of Grenada itself. Back in May, when we were last in the area we had been forced to miss Carriacou as we were then hot-footing south with eldest son and his wife who had limited time to sail with us between St. Lucia and Grenada. Since then many fellow cruisers had mentioned the delights of Carriacou which had served to strengthen our resolve to go there with some time to enjoy it. I should perhaps mention at this juncture that our undue haste had been prompted by a decision made back in Trinidad for Gill to fly back to Blighty at the end of December, early January to see parents and family and especially to attend her Sister’s 60th birthday celebrations. All very well, I hear you concur….except that the flight she had booked, with her eye always on a bargain, was a cheaper Thompson charter flight from TOBAGO…..yes, Tobago! A glance at your handy Caribbean map will show you that Tobago is back down south-east from Grenada by about 100 miles! Bonkers! So, from the promised delights of Carriacou we were all too aware that we would then need to find a suitable weather window for the 18 hour or so trip back down to Tobago (thence heading back up on her return of course!).
Our wonderful trip up from Trinidad had perhaps made us a little complacent as our 40-mile sail north-east from Grenada to Carriacou was far from comfortable with more confused chop than swell and fairly strong winds right on our bow. Once round the southern corner of Grenada at St. Georges, we managed to keep our destination, Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou, just about on the nose, but not without sailing close hauled all the way. Once off the shelter of the lea-shore of the Grenadian coast we met the full force of the Atlantic winds and swells but just about managed to keep our course without having to beat (tacking backwards and forwards). The one hazard between the two islands is an exclusion zone round a still active underwater volcano marked by a rock descriptively called ‘Kick ‘em Jenny’. We obviously gave this the wide berth it deserved, but by so doing it gave us even less freedom of movement until well clear. By sundown and rather frazzled we were gratefully approaching the south-westerly coast of Carriacou at last and could see through our binoculars that Tyrrel Bay was choc-a-bloc full of masts so decided to plod on another mile or so to the beautiful anchorage just off a coral reef called Sandy Island. To our delight we found and picked up a mooring buoy off the beautiful palm-fringed, blonde-beached island. Once settled we sat on the back of the boat listening to the waves lapping on the nearby beach and sipping our wine with the self-satisfaction that only the accomplishing of yet another tricky sail can muster.
We spent a glorious few days in splendid isolation off tiny, uninhabited Sandy Island. It is part of a Protected Area so our only visitors were the park wardens wanting a few Eastern Caribbean dollars for using their buoy. We were able to beach our dingy on the perfect shores of the island, walking along under the palm trees and frequently taking a dip or snorkelling in the azure waters. The rolling waves were not insignificant at times which made leaving on the dinghy a bit of a challenge but apart from that it was a little capsule of quintessential, perfect Caribbean.
Then it was time to return to reality in Tyrrel Bay. Colin had been asked to be one of the Radio Controllers for the daily Ocean Cruising Club SSB (Single Side Band)Radio Net….each day (at 0730!). We have only recently joined the Ocean Cruising Club – the main criteria for membership being the achievement of an over 1000 mile ocean crossing along with a recommendation from an existing member As such a new boy then, Colin felt it a privilege to be asked to be an active member so soon. The morning Radio Net is designed to put Ocean Cruising Club members in touch with each other Caribbean-wide. Single Side Band radio enables this as it is a truly impressive bit of kit allowing communication between vessels over huge swathes of ocean. The time had come, with the dawn of the new sailing season, for Skipper to take his responsibilities seriously. It was with some trepidation that he took to the airwaves ridiculously early one Thursday morning but oh how gratifying and rather magical to hear far flung voices reaching us from all over the Caribbean across the white noise of the ether.
Carriacou is only about 10 miles long and 3 miles wide and though a dependency of Grenada, has very much its own character exemplified by its colourful personable inhabitants. Apart from quite a large ex-pat British population, most of the native people have been on the island for generations slogging their way out of slavery, first under the French and then the British, on plantations harvesting cotton, sugar and more latterly limes with some not insignificant dabbling in smuggling along the way. The whole island is still no more than a big friendly town where everyone knows everyone else. After a few days in Tyrell Bay exploring the shops and bars along the beachside highway, we took up an offer of a taxi tour from one of the local chaps called Simon. He, along with his brother Thomas, plied the waters of the Bay helping yachties on to the mooring buoys they own , selling them fish, lobster and even the wine to accompany these delights. Simon was able to give us a real insight into Carriacou life and history, explaining how his grandfather had bought part of an old plantation at public auction in 1914 and the ensuing fight his Afro-Caribbean forbears had had to keep the land from British settlers’ hands. He also showed us the boat yards on the north east tip of the island where wooden boat building is still being done using the same methods as were introduced onto the island by Scottish settlers over a hundred years ago – completely authentic in design with the only manufacturing difference being that power tools are now used. As we watched, boats were being worked on which would be raced in the Antigua Classics – or so we were told by the proud boat-builders. The next day we took a local maxi-taxi (small minibuses which constantly buzz round the islands picking up anyone needing a lift at the roadsides for very little fare) to Hillsborough, the capital of Carriacou. Here, you feel, business carries on as it has for eons with very little change: there is a market and co-operative shop which still gathers produce from local growers and producers, from straw hats to rum via nutmeg and watermelons – selling direct to the townsfolk and tourists. Overwhelmingly the atmosphere is welcoming and kind. As an example, our maxi-taxi took a detour on the way back from Hillsborough to Tyrell Bay, to ensure an elderly lady was taken direct to her door. Goodness abounded making our stay in Tyrell Bay a really pleasant one.
Now we are contemplating the long sail back to Tobago and trying to identify a weather window for this seeming backwards step. Our other consideration is where we should spend our self-inflicted, solitary Christmas ….never a dull moment in Paradise….!
Happy Christmas and best wishes for 2015.
view over Whisper Bay, Grenada from hotel ruined by Hurricane Ivan in 2004.
Sandy Island, Carriacou.
The beautiful beach, Sandy Island.
Carriacou (with Union Island in the distance).
Boat building the Scottish way…Windward, Carriacou
(Hand) washing day on Resolute….it’s not all glamorous you know!
Christmas decorations and Grenadian patriotism in our maxi-taxi.
resolute-en-voyage 