Prepare to cringe!
The last month aboard Resolute has been all about a particular ship – friendship. (I did warn you it was cringe-worthy!) Wall to wall -or should that read bulkhead to bulkhead? – friends joining us on our sails in the Windward Islands….a time to share the Caribbean and our life aboard our 41 foot mobile home.
The timing of this month with friends to help with the sailing could not have been more perfect as First Mate was suffering from sciatica. Well, initially she thought she had just pulled a muscle in her upper left leg but then as the pins and needles and numbness extended down the leg she realised it was more than that. Having had extensive back surgery (an internal fixation) seven years previously, she is no stranger to discs prolapsing but eventually had to face her denial that anything was indeed wrong and was persuaded by Skipper to see a doctor in St Lucia. The young, confident Doctor could offer little in the way of investigations – there was no MRI scanner on the island, so she relied on a very thorough examination to confirmed her suspicions and ordered rest (yeah right!) and strong analgesia. Thus the extra pairs of willing hands were extremely welcome.
Fortuitously, our first arrivals joined us in St. Lucia. Paul and Jenni hail from the Scottish borders and that alone entitles them to a large dose of sunshine. Add to that the fact that although semi-related, we have never had the opportunity to spend much time together and their natural affinity to boats and sailing, I am sure you would agree that their joining us had all the makings of being mutually rewarding. And so it proved to be.
We had taken the same route – from St. Lucia to Grenada – last year with Chris and Tanvi but this time we had a few more days to complete the 126 nautical mile trip with Paul and Jenni. The mileage alone is not terribly significant as it could be achieved in one 24 hour leg, but the numerous islands along the way, all deserving a visit, makes it a tall order. Jenni and Paul had some recent experience of Caribbean sailing having chartered a yacht with Jenni’s sister and brother in law just last year in Antigua. They had definitely caught the bug. They were very keen to explore and sail some more. Paul’s experience as a Master Mariner ensured that any conditions at sea were acceptable, nay, child’s play. The modus operandi of a small sailing boat however was a newer challenge but one he and Jenni were always ready to meet with enthusiasm and vigour which pleased the regular crew no end.
After filling up the lockers with loads of supplies from Blighty extricated from every corner of their luggage, Jenni and Paul settled into Resolute’s routines almost seamlessly. The first evening some scorn was poured on Skipper and first Mate as they shuffled off to bed shortly after 9…but on subsequent nights they too were turning in as early – tired from all the snorkelling, sailing and swimming; drunk on the ozone-laden fresh air and local rums and beers too. Now they understood.
Leaving St. Lucia and the luxury of the Marigot Bay marina resort, after a brief stop at the Pitons (one of which Paul climbed with a local guide) Skipper soon had Jenni on the helm for the swelly sail crossing the lumpy gap between the islands arriving to a welcoming committee of boat boys in Wallilabou, St Vincent. Having cleared in at the sometime Customs post here it is normal practice to have a few drinks at the bar on the beach made famous by being used as a set in the Pirates of the Caribbean films. Johnny Depp and Keira Knightly adorn every inch of wall space in the sham buildings which still cluster the dockside. What an amazing thing to happen to this gorgeous, little, sleepy bay. The rum punches served there could easily have made pirates and heroines of us all – such was their toxicity. Back to Resolute we staggered (do dinghies stagger?) loudly putting the world to rights as we went, probably to the chagrin of our neighbours.
Jenni at the wheel (Paul on the box).
Hangovers notwithstanding the next morning we pressed on to Bequia finding ourselves once again in Admiralty Bay. We were keen to share one of our favourite places. Paul and Jenni were able to take an island tour to really get the feel of this unique whale-centred island. Having waxed lyrical about Bequia on our previous visit a few months ago I won’t bore you again with the details, but suffice it to say that Jenni and Paul enjoyed the site-seeing both on land, and on and under the azure waters….the snorkelling off Princess Margaret beach proving to be some of the best on offer. After a few days soaking in Bequia we set forth to Mustique…..a sail not to be taken lightly as it is to windward. Our fellow Intrepids however took it all in their stride. We had sung the praises of Mustique being another of the ‘must see’ places so it was too late to default. We soon found ourselves off Britannia Bay again after an exhilarating sail from Bequia. Being part of St Vincent and the Grenadines no clearing in or out was required – always a bonus.
Jenni and Paul at @The View’.
Mustique had not lost its much-heralded magic. We walked (and Gilly limped) along the near deserted, perfectly manicured beach and swam in the warm oh-so-blue surf. As we frolicked we noticed further down the beach that preparations were being made for a wedding on the beach. As there was no way for us to return to the harbour except past the wedding we crept along the path behind the beach anxious not to interrupt proceedings. There was a chair incongruously in our path as we approached and Paul, not noted for his silent observations, said loudly “oh, the video camera is on that chair – they must be taping it all”. We imagine that Paul’s words will forever be immortalised on that happy couples recording of their wedding!
We continued up through the tortoise park (without a tortoise to be seen this time) and up again in the heat of the middle of the day. Much.to our relieve ‘The View’ restaurant was still open for us to enjoy a well-deserved lunch. Jenni and Paul were as bowled over by the view at ‘The View’ as we had been at our last visit. Wonderful local food was served to us – callalou (an elephant-ear green leaf which tastes like spinach) soup with ham and dumplings was more than enough so we took back to the boat the next course of salted cod with all the local trimmings (plantain, bread fruit and possibly a root vegetable called dasheen which tastes like chestnut). A proper taste of the Caribbean which cost us very little.
Admirably, Paul took full advantage of the hiking opportunities wherever we went. Whilst on Mustique he took himself off and explored the island on foot more thoroughly than we had done on any previous visit. After 2 days though we decided we had to carry on south setting sail early one morning to the legendary Tobago Cays. We deliberately sailed past the windward side of Canouan – deciding that if an island had to be missed, Canouan was the least alluring….a tough choice. Navigating our way very carefully through the reefs surrounding the Cays we arrived to find it much less crowded than we had ever found it (listen to us sounding like seasoned Caribbean island-hoppers!). Two days were spent snorkelling and turtle watching. A boat boy called Kojak managed to find us some frozen lobster (delivered to us under a cloak of secrecy as it was the closed season for lobster fishing – despite his promises that these fine specimens had been caught during the open season) and delicious they were.
Turtle in Tobago Cays.
The next day, the perfect sweep of blond beach in Salt Whistle Bay Mayreux, provided us with more swimming and snorkelling opportunities and gave Paul a starting point for another long walk around the small, steep island. And ‘The Last Bar Before the Jungle’ provided us with a wonderfully Rastafarian shabby chic sundowner venue too – all hand-made wooden, brightly painted furniture and drinks served in coconut husks. After a few of their cocktails we all agreed that Bob Marley was indeed “de man”.
It’s empty! Paul looks disgusted!
Jenni on First Mate duties!
Onwards. This time to somewhere we had not yet visited – the tiny private island of Petite Saint Vincent (known as PSV to its friends). Actually friends of this island are hard to find unless one has considerable wealth. It is a very private island with only one very exclusive resort ashore to which us yachties had only very restricted access. Friendly? – not noticeably. Consequently we licked our wounds and stayed aboard Resolute planning our next move.
This time to Union Island – an essential stop not only for provisioning, but also to clear out of the Grenadines. Clifton seemed sadly quiet compared to our previous visits. The busy buzz in the little, colourful market square had been replaced by an air of desperation as the stall holders tried to entice us to their particular stalls to buy our fruit and vegetables. This was definitely the end of the sailing season for these islanders who relied on tourists such as us for their income. Nonetheless Union was as always welcoming and the produce there was exceptionally fresh including the mahi-mahi fish bought from a vendor on the quay-side. Skipper was always glad to leave the crowded anchorage in Clifton – not because he did not enjoy the island ashore but just because the anchorage was crowded (even this late in the season) with the holding being notoriously dodgy in the always gusty winds. Whilst ashore Skipper was always double-checking that Resolute had not strayed from where we had left her. Thus it was with some relief that we nudged out of Union the next morning heading for the safer anchorage of Tyrell Bay, Carriacou where our Ocean Cruising Club friends Ken and Judith aboard their boat Badger’s Sett were waiting for us. By now Jenni and Paul were eager and confident helms-people, taking to the wheel whenever Skipper encouraged them to do so with enthusiasm. Morale aboard Resolute was good!
After a whistle-stop shopping trip in Tyrell Bay we were prepared for our supper guests. It is guaranteed that time spent with Ken and Judith is fun and our al fresco supper aboard Resolute with one of Judith’s divine banana and rum crumbles for pud with custard specially made for Paul, did not disappoint. But time was pressing now. Only two days until Jenni and Paul had to leave us and by then we had to be down in Grenada some 25 miles away with snorkelling stops promised en route. Waving fond farewells to Judith and Ken we left Tyrell Bay and headed across the volcanic gap towards Grenada. The underwater volcano aptly named ‘Kick ‘em Jenny’ is still active. Consequently there is an exclusion zone around it of a few nautical miles which is extended when the submarine volcano is active. Having checked it was safe we passed by gingerly and stopped for lunch in a shallow bay off a nearby almost deserted island called Ile de Ronde. Then we continued south to the impressive forest-clad peaks of Grenada itself. Although we had reserved a berth at the Grenada Yacht Club from where Jenni and Paul would be taking their leave of us, there was one more excitement to be had for avid snorkelers.
Grenada has its own underwater Sculpture Park created relatively recently by Jason Decaires Taylor and made famous by photos in the National Geographic magazine. A circle of life-size stone figures stand holding hands in a circle on the sea bed alongside a man praying and another on a bicycle. Best seen by scuba divers these sculptures can also be enjoyed by just snorkelling in the clear blue waters of the marine park with Resolute tied to one of the National Park Buoys nearby.
Time and tide wait for no man. So it was with heavy hearts that we four arrived at the Grenada Yacht Club mooring. To cheer us and make a memorable last evening together we ate at the posh (no plastic chairs here) restaurant at the neighbouring marina, Port Louis. We all supped on the delicious food and wine before heading back to our humbler abode at the other side of the Bay. The next day there was little else to be done but packing and sad farewells…but with promises of more sailing together next year.
Now, having been acclimatised by now to the loose-limbed Caribbean rhythm of life, quick turnarounds are not easily accomplished any more….but that is what needed to happen as our next friends were en route from St. Simon’s Island, Georgia, the very next day. Laundry, cleaning, making and mending and shopping somehow happened. In addition there were two other problems needed addressing in our short turn-a-round; namely Fridge and Back.
Despite having a reconditioned compressor (with no new one being available) in Admiralty Bay not two weeks previously, Fridge had decided it was all too much again. Now some sympathy has to be extended to poor old Fridge. There is not much left on Resolute which hails from its inception in 1984 but Fridge had and what is more, Fridge, like us, was made to be happy in Northern European climes where keeping things cold does not need very much effort compared to in the hot Caribbean. No, Fridge owed us nothing, but he undoubtedly chose an inconvenient moment to stop and so soon after having another compressor too to seal his demise. Between guests dear Fridge is not a good time to breathe your last. Grenada Yacht Club summoned their trusty fridge mechanic who, as we feared pronounced Fridge dead. Many Eastern Caribbean dollars later, Fridge was removed to a final resting place (giving a whole new meaning to deep freeze…!) and replaced by Fridge Plus. What a difference a new fridge makes – less amps, more cold and a reliability we had hitherto only dreamt of!
Another problem which could not be so easily remedied was Gilly’s Back – still giving her jip down her left leg making walking long and now even shorter, distances very uncomfortable. Another trip to a Doctor was on the cards. This time an X-Ray was ordered and the Doctor was able to confirm that above the existing metalwork in Back the disc was leaning precariously against the nerves serving the left leg. Stronger medication was prescribed and a course of physiotherapy….and this time to her dismay, she was advised not even to swim. However, our medical insurers in UK were yet to be convinced of the need for the physiotherapy so whilst they were making their decisions and making checks with Doctors in UK we decided to make tracks anyway as Lee and Sherry could take over First Mate duties.
Thus, the following evening we were waiting at the airport for the arrival of a flight from Miami. And there they were! Our long lost very dear friends from our NATO days in Lille Lee and Sherry. Except for a brief visit to them in Germany by Gill and an even briefer stopover by them in Norway we had not seen them for far too many years and had so much catching up to do. Like us, Lee and Sherry had retired from the Military in 2013, Lee’s last post whilst we were in Norway being as U.S. Defence Attache in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo…..the final chapter of a military career which had had a seriously African flavo(u)r! They had spent the last eighteen months renovating a ‘doer-uppa’ house on St. Simon’s Island and were exhausted by their efforts to make the house their forever home as well as some health challenges for Sherry. They were overdue then a Caribbean cruise aboard Resolute. The last time they had been aboard was for a fjord cruise when they visited us in Stavanger circa June 2011.
Just as Jenni and Paul had kindly come laden with provisions to stock our food lockers, Lee and Sherry staggered aboard and produced from their Mary Poppins-esque bags amazing delights: new pillows to replace our sad yellowing specimens; beautiful beach towels and tea towels; Claxton’s fruit cake from Lee’s cousin Wanda, relishes from Sherry’s parents in Texas; a sweet card and gift from Lee’s parents – oh and a new snorkelling set for Colin and luxury toiletries for Gilly…..amongst other goodies. We were thoroughly spoilt and rendered speechless by the generosity of our dear American friends.
Such excitement as we all got together again! With so much to catch up on we just did not stop talking. With early morning checks on the weather from our trusty American forecaster, Chris Parker we became even more excited. Though we were desperate to show Lee and Sherry the beauty and diversity of the islands we had just visited with Jenni and Paul in the south Caribbean, at this time of year with the start of the usually unsettled rainy/hurricane season we imagined we would have to be content to meander round Grenada itself. But no, Chris Parker was forecasting an unseasonal drop in wind velocity and a long spell of good dry weather which would indeed allow us to take them north. Lee and Sherry were very excited at the prospect, though Sherry was prone to sea-sickness she had come equipped with all sorts of preventative treatments so was confident she would not succumb.
Poor Sherry…our first sail with mal de mer !
Oh dear – what had we said about Sherry’s mal-de-mer?! That first day sailing back up to Tyrell Bay poor Sherry, despite all her precautions was ashenly clinging to the winch as though pleading with it for her journey to be over. Thankfully she was not actually sick though fighting it had proved exhausting for her. Poor Sherry. What she needed was a tonic…..and Ken and Judith, greeting us yet again on Badger’s Sett in Tyrell Bay were able to provide it….with sundowners aboard. The next day we were able to share Sunday lunch with Ken and Judith and some other of their friends at the Slipway Restaurant. It was not long before Lee was showing off his fluent French with a charming petite French hostess at our table who hailed from a beautiful wooden holiday sailing boat moored in the Bay….before we knew it she was using the familiar ‘tu’ with him – such was her delight at meeting a French speaker amongst all the Anglaises – which included her own husband.
Resolute, well reefed ,approaching Admiralty Bay
As Lee does not drink alcohol we too were able to give our livers a welcome break for the fortnight they were aboard…but did it stop us from having fun? Not a bit of it. We laughed and joked our way from island to island sampling the culinary delights of them all.
From then on we took the sailing as slowly and gently as possible. We found Clifton’s air of desperation exacerbated by the arrival of huge mats of orange Sargasso sea weed on their usually pristine beaches. Apparently this is a phenomena which happens every few years when, with optimum conditions the weed excels its usual growth patterns and breaks away in the wider Atlantic. The local people on Union Island seemed stunned by its appearance marring the look and smell of their shores and were at a loss as to how to tackle it. We were unable to get to the usual dinghy dock because of the weed which of course delights in winding itself around unsuspecting propellers. Along the beleaguered shores was a man selling beautifully polished conch shells. For Sherry it was love at first sight – not the man you understand, but the exotic pink shells. Three were purchased from the delighted chap and then the controversy about how these shells were going to be safely transported back to the States began…..Lee was not too sure that they were even permitted to take them back let alone the obvious problems of getting them back undamaged. However, when we convinced him that they would be perfect to adorn his newly constructed outside shower back in St. Simon’s he was suddenly a convert to collecting shells and seaside memorabilia at every opportunity. We assured him that providing these were bought from reputable sellers and out of the National Park this would not be a problem….and we just hoped we were right as the collection grew.
Sherry restored! With Lee.
Sherry and Gill.
John preparing our dorade, Union Island
We came across a very cheerful boat boy called John in Clifton who we had met earlier in the year. He recognised us too and gave us a warm welcome. Once asked if there was any fresh fish to be had anywhere, John sped off and bought us back a huge ugly, flat-faced dorade. He prepared the fish for us with great care and from it we were able to have two delicious grilled fish meals. Thank you John!
Sailing further up-island and thoroughly enjoying the unusually benign conditions we managed to get as far north as Admiralty Bay, Bequia again (resisting the urge to find the chap who had fitted the reconditioned compressor to Fridge and demand our money back). Sherry seemed to soon find her sea legs and was rewarded with us all (except poor grounded Gilly)to fantastic snorkelling in Bequia and turtle watching in the Tobago Cays….looking at its most stunning in the fine weather and almost deserted to boot. What larks we had sailing to our favourite islands and introducing our dearest Colonials to some more former colonies (albeit with rather chequered histories). In Mayreux we decided to eat at the Salt Whistle Bay resort which boasts individual circular stone tables with quaint thatched roofs (a la Flintstones) right on the beach. There, with the waves lapping on the beach and as the dusk settled into darkness we ate snapper fillets and pork ribs straight from the grill with rice, salad and stuffed jacket potatoes followed by a locally made melt-in-the-mouth banana cake. Such simple pleasures with our dearest friends in a heavenly setting.
The happy snorkelers return!
Just chillin’
Colonels on the stern!
Unfortunately all too soon we found ourselves heading south again from whence we came. Grenada Yacht Club welcomed us once more. Felix the taxi driver sniffed another fare to the airport. After another exceptionally good supper at the Yacht Club Restaurant (called The Spout) there was nowhere else to run. Out came the bags. All the ill-gotten gains were carefully packed and all too soon the tearful goodbyes had to be said and hugs exchanged.
Suddenly there we were on our own again….but what wonderful memories we had of friendships renewed on these beautiful islands.
resolute-en-voyage 