FROM BEQUIA TO CARRIACOU

Still being paranoid about our anchor, we picked up a mooring in Charlstown Bay, Canouan. The tourism is spreading south, we paid for the mooring as much as we did on Virgin Islands. But it was a piece of mind and we had a good night’s rest. Evening we spent with ten Slovenians, chartering for three weeks in the Windwards. There was a lot of laughter going on after a few rounds of rum punch. Slovenians are gay people.

Indian milkweed

A short trip on a jib in a strong wind took us to Saline Bay on Mayreau. Even with many boats on the anchorage the beautiful beach seems deserted but for one day every week. A cruise ship anchors outside the bay, tenders bringing people to the shore, to the picnic tables covered with white tablecloth. Lunch is being served in a shade of the palm trees. Small shacks come alive with colors, dresses and scarves on the line swinging in the wind. Vendors are patiently waiting for lunch to be over.

In a few hours beach is empty again. Vendors bag their things and leave, they don’t get a lot of business from sailors. In every town the same things are being offered, colorful dresses and jewelry made from shells. Tee shirts made in China with the same design, only the name of the island on them changes.

We met with friends from ‘Noor Daria’, they stopped in Saline Bay on their way north. They treated us again with an excellent Slovenian wine and wind-dried ham, Slovenian tradition.

Saline Bay beach

'NOOR DARIA'  with Majda and Toni

An hour of sailing on the jib again brought us to Clifton Bay on Union Island, the last of Grenadines. It is breath taking but dangerous bay with not well marked reef in the middle. The sailboat came in after dark and got it’s keel caught in a reef. Two small boats came to help tilt the sailboat to relief the keel, then pulled it away from the reef. What luck! It could not have been done with the sailboat in Bequia.

Mountains outline of the Union Island

Clifton Bay anchorage

Kite surfing

Clifton market

We supplied ourselves with fruits and vegetables that we desperately needed. Then we signed out of Grenadines in a friendly Customs and Immigration Office, a little too casual, we didn’t notice, that from the papers we got, the sign out form was missing. When we arrived to Carriacou, which is part of Grenada, the immigration officer threatened to lock Polde up for not having all the documents. Of course he didn’t, as we learned later, the island has it’s own crime to deal with.

So, now we are on Carriacou, the island with a population of 6000, probably just as many goats and over a hundred rum shops. We are taking it easy in a pleasant Tyrrel Bay. After having a problem dragging again in Saline Bay, we anchored using danforth.  In Tyrrel Bay we found a mechanic with a heavy duty press and he finally straightened the bent anchor. It is holding now.

We are taking walks, talking to the natives. We found new friends in this bay, Canadian fascinating couple Janice and Larry from the sailboat ‘Sea Bear’. Both single handed sailors on lake Ontario, they teamed up to sail Caribbean Sea. They both sailed Atlantic and Pacific, Jan all the way to New Zealand and Australia.

Tyrrel Bay

Nets resting

Larry, Jan and Polde

BEQUIA

Sailing to Bequia was beautiful, sunny with 25 knots wind. But in the Admirality Bay we started out with some trouble anchoring twice. At night we dragged again. I slept in a cockpit and the anchor alarm woke me up. Polde changed the anchor, put on the danfort, while I was circulating in a 30 knots gusts. We have been sitting tight and far from the crowd of other boats since.

In the morning we realized, that the shaft of the CQR anchor was bent upward. That probably wasn’t the only reason why the boat dragged. We watched other boats trying to anchor twice or three times before they settled. One sailboat dragged during the night and ended up on rocks. People were rescued in the morning, but the boat was slowly taken by the sea, only the top of the mast sticking out as a reminder of the Caribbean sailing pleasures. Another boat dragged into the neighbor and scraped the side of it.

I did some bottom fishing off the boat and caught enough for my meals. I added another specimen to my trophies, a flying gurnard, a beautiful and tasty fish, but not easy to clean.

There is a tennis court available at the Gingerbread Inn on a shore by the anchorage. The weather didn't permit us to play, so we exercised by walking over the hill from Admirality to the Frienship Bay, quiet with only a few fishing boats resting. A small restaurant and a bar, were we refreshed ourselves a few years back, was washed away by the storm.

We said our farewell to the past year with a couple of Slovenian sailors, Majda and Toni Bozic, who participated in the ARC with their beautiful 65 ft ketch NOOR DARIA. We met them the day before in the Admirality Bay and yet, we had such a good time as if we were old friends. Must be the sailors’ spirit.

We have not had a peaceful day or night since we sailed into this bay. The wind just wouldn’t slow down, gusting to 30 knots and bringing rain heavy clouds. Our generator and the water maker have been resting the last two weeks. There is always something good in bad, isn’t there? And there are always rainbows after the storms.

A thrill

and a beauty

Flying gurnard

Are William and Kate visiting?

Admirality Bay

Friendship Bay

PITONS

We left Rodney Bay December 26^th and spent two days at Pitons in a company of big yachts. The place is not as quiet as it used to be, but it still has a good fishing ground. I caught a large yellowtail snapper, enough for three people to have two meals.

To stretch our legs we walked through a jungle above the resort Jalousie, the trail neatly designed with wooden walkways and bridges.

As always Jarule supplied us with fruits and vegetables. He surprised us by being neatly dressed, when we complemented him, he showed us a ring. He got married in August.

Yellowtail snapper

Bungalow in a jungle

Roots

The trail through the jungle

Jalousie Resort hurricane shelter

Cozy spot

Mango blossoms

REVISITING CASTRIES

With many stops it takes a 15 minutes ride from Rodney Bay to Castries. The mini bus-van is always packed with adults, school kids ans sometimes a chicken or two. The atmosphere is upbeat. You always get a response to your greet, you might hear it in spite of the loud music.

The bus ride is an introduction to Castries, as if life on the bus spilled on to the streets. Is there anybody left at home or in the office? The streets are so packed with people, you have to weave your way through the crowds. Side walks are filled with the street vendors, from them you can buy anything from sandals to fruits, but mostly little snacks and hair decorations. St. Lucian women and girls take special care of their hair. If they don't wear their wigs, and many do, they braid and decorate their hair with bright and shiny decorations. Some colour their hair red, an old African tradition, using canna blossoms. Little school girls are beautiful in their yellow and white uniforms and matching beads in their braids.

We walked into the harbour, where four cruise ships were docked, the fifth was anchored close to the harbour entrance. And yet, markets with colourful clothing, carved statues and beautifully weaved baskets were poorly visited by tourists. There are to many markets on the islands, where cruise ships stop.
We found some of the things we were looking for, had lunch in one of the harbour restaurants and had another exciting ride on a speedy public mini bus going back to 'NADA'

Note the cruise ship at the end of the street

Calabash tree

SUN RAYS THROUGH THE CLOUDS

The clouds have turned from grey to white, the late afternoon sun coloring them deep pink.
We are anchored in Rodney Bay again after a comfortable sail from Martinique in a 15 knots wind.
The ARC (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers) boats are coming in, four or five a day, looking majestic with all their sails up until the finish line.
It was calm and rainy for days, we welcomed the wind, that pushed the clouds elsewhere. The life on the beach woke up again, umbrellas adding the colour to lashes green trees and bushes, that in the rainy season reached almost all the way to the water.
Most of our sailing friends have left to sail north, avoiding ARC crowd of over 200 boats. Some went home for the holidays. 'NADA' is waiting for the new batteries, that should arrive this week. Then we'll be heading south.

Le Marin beauty

The advantage of the autopilot

Tired

We have a visitor

Drying a spinnaker at the dock 

                                       

LE MARIN

We are anchored in a bay carved by the sea deep into the south end of Martinique. The town that hugs the bay in rightfully named Le Marin, The Sailor. You don’t see as many sailboats anywhere else. The town has everything that sailors need, marine stores, sail making lofts, charter companies. Vegetable, fruit and spice market is close enough to have a view of the marina, while supermarket has a convenient dock into the anchorage.


We have been here five days and it has rained on and off, today the raindrops have been knocking on the boat continuously from early morning.

Years ago I was grieving over something unimportant, my friend Jane Ripley comforted me by saying: Everything that happens to us, has something good in it.

In the last five days we filled up our water tanks.




The appartment building, overlooking the bay

The town cemetery



Shoppers gather fruits, vegetables and spices in the weaved baskets



Kids having fun





Ready to go



On a road again



PEOPLE WATCHER

Unlike Rodney Bay in St. Lucia, we don’t have the Internet connection on Le Marin anchorage. Yesterday we took a dinghy ride to the ‘Mango Bay’ café for the Internet, beer and cappuccino. It was almost lunch time, the place was busy. While Polde was working on the keyboard, I was watching people.


A party of six came in, three men and three women, matured, not old. Two men well trimmed, the third heavy set, barely squeezed his belly between the chair’s backrest and the table. It was hot and humid; after all, we are in the tropics. The two slim men took their shirts off. No, Nooo! Where is the sign: NO SHIRT, NO FOOD! I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. You come in, you put your shirt on, you leave, you take it off, and get a sun burn.

Anyway, I looked away, and then I couldn’t help myself, holding on to my cup, I took a deep breath, my eyes went back to the naked table. The third shirt stayed on, I let my air out.

When the party left the table, men (I cannot use the word gentlemen, can I?) put their shirts back on.

Mango Bay cafe