February 2017

In which we get to Grenada and start the long voyage north

 We started February at anchor in Saline bay, Mayrou. We were excited and apprehensive. Excited because the next stop was going to be Tobago Cays, one of those picture perfect destinations that sold us on the idea of sailing away in the first place and apprehensive because such destinations are so often a disappointment when you actually get there because either they only look good if you stand with your back to the council estate (not mentioning any specific Scottish castle) or they are so packed with tourists that any charm is lost in discarded McDonald packaging. As it was only a short hop, into wind with some reefs to negotiate, we didn’t even consider sailing and just motored. Five years earlier we would have looked askance at anyone doing this but we are like people in the second year of owning a convertible who are prepared to leave the top on when rain is forecast.

Jamesby in Tobago Cays. The perfect tropical island?

We threaded our way past a sailing passenger ship and a mega motor cruiser to the prime anchorage. Amazing: not only were there vacant mooring buoys, there was room for us to anchor clear of them. Even more amazing was that it was just as we had pictured it with aquamarine water, coconut tree fringed islands and nothing between us and Africa but a coral reef and three thousand miles of Ocean. As we finished tidying up, a turtle surfaced and gave us a nod before diving back for a nibble of sea grass. We spent a blissful 3 days here, with Elsie popping her head up at frequent intervals and reporting that yes, the sea really was that colour and the reef was still there. Each day, we went for a little dinghy ride to stroll along one of those palm fringed beaches and have a little snorkel swim round its shore. We also did our bit for the local economy by buying a loaf of bread or a little fruit at vastly inflated prices.

And the only footprints were ours. 

Tobago Cays, with Ruby on the left.

On the 4^th we decided that it was time to move on and see a few more islands. First, we made the short hop down to Union island, anchoring at Clifton for a couple of hours while we did a bit of provisioning and then heading round the south coast. The intention was to stop in the lee of Frigate island, only a couple of miles further on, so we didn’t bother hoisting the sails. On arrival, we changed our minds and continued round to Chatham bay, another beautiful anchorage with just a few beach bars. More lazing in hammock, reading, swimming etc. with the odd dinghy ashore for a stroll on the beach. On our second afternoon, a sailing passenger ship, Wind Song, arrived. One of the beach bars set up barbecue, a small steel band and a couple of souvenir stalls and the passengers were ferried ashore for their hour of ‘doing Union Island’. Although a few of them strolled the length of the beach, not a cent was spent elsewhere to the obvious distress of the other vendors. Fortunately a few of the yacht cruisers did spread the custom around later. After 2 nights, it was time to move on again. We had to check out of the St Vincent Grenadines at Clifton and decided to complete our circumnavigation of Union by sailing round the north side. We hoisted the main but the wind, as could have been predicted, veered as we motored round, managing to be directly in our faces until we had only a mile to go. We reckoned that we had burned as much fuel going round this small island as we had crossing the Atlantic. Having completed formalities, we continued our motoring tour, crossing the few miles to Petit St Vincent, a private island where the rich and discrete go to unwind. We anchored off for lunch but while one is allowed to land, the hoi poloi is confined to one (very well groomed) beach and one (no doubt astronomically expensive) bar, so we made the one mile international voyage to Petit Martinique, anchoring off the village. There is a pier where one can take water at reasonable charge but it looked a bit exposed in the current weather and we didn’t want to shred our fenders so we postponed going alongside until the following morning. We did dinghy ashore for a stroll and a little provisioning and discovered that the following day was independence day and that everything, including the water pier, would be closed. Oh, well.

Passenger ship setting sail into the sunset.

On the 7^th, we did manage a sail, downwind to Carriacou. We also managed to land our first fish caught while sailing. Heaving to to land it proved no problem but I managed to tangle the line in doing so, giving Elsie a fine entertainment in sorting it. While it wasn’t exactly big game, Albert the Albacore was just the right size for a fish supper for two and was remarkably easy to fillet so Elsie is now encouraging for fishing under way to be a regular activity. Even on Independence Day, booking in at Tyrell Bay was simple and free of overtime charge and we had a pleasant stroll along the beach to round off the day. It was time to get close to my departure point for my periodic journey to Scotland, so we moved off the following morning and had a fine sail down the eastern, windward side of Grenada entering one of the many sheltered bays on the southern side, Clarkes Court, anchoring off Whisper Cove.

The old man of the sea with his fish.

The south of Grenada is cruiser central. There are many anchorages, all well sheltered from the trade winds; each with dinghy docks, affordable restaurants, WiFi, and travelling salesmen providing everything from bread to beer to gas re-fills. There is a ‘cruisers’ net’ radio schedule every morning giving weather, social information, small ads for boaters and service companies and AOB. There are shopping buses every couple of days to take one to good supermarkets and excellent hardware stores and chandleries. Each bay has its habitués, many of them of many years standing, doing small maintenance jobs and planning voyages that might, or might not, happen. Our first contact with a ‘local’ was as we dropped anchor at whisper cove. As we picked our spot, an ancient, hairy and naked man appeared on his deck and told us that we shouldn’t presume to come so close to established residents (not his exact words!). This put Elsie off her timing and we did end up a bit closer than ideal to another boat but, by Mediterranean standards, there was loads of room. I took advantage of the net, the following morning, to advertise the 45 meters of surplus anchor chain that we had been carrying since the Canary Islands. This was quickly snapped up with the result that renewing (and increasing to 70 meters) has cost about 15% that expected!

Elsie was going to be left on her own for 10 days and the original plan was for her, and Ruby, to be alongside in a marina. With the security of the anchorages and her growing confidence in Rubette (the dinghy) we were now considering leaving her at anchor. As I was transferring my surplus chain, however, we met a recommended mooring owner and negotiated a good rate for using that so a middle way was found. We hadn’t been to a marina for over a month though and we decided to go in for one night to fill with water and give the house batteries a good charge. Our fee also included use of an excellent swimming pool and a book exchange. We took the shopping bus in to town on the Friday morning and got very excited with the shops, spending rather more than we should have on fresh food and hardware. Off to our new mooring that afternoon and a long relax before my flight home on Saturday / Sunday.

Elsie writes:

February was a month full of opposites and contrasts. The 1^st February was spent in the natural splendour of Tobago Cays by the 9^th we were attached to a mooring buoy in Mount Hartman Bay surrounded by three or four dozen other boats. Some had been there a very long time, others, like us, were just passing through. Grenada is a very convenient stop for flying visits back to the UK or just a well earned rest before the hard beat back North. Mount Hartman Bay is very sheltered and surrounded by a mangrove swap so it is an approved hurricane hole for insurance purposes. This is a very important fact as winter progresses to spring and summer for yachties and there is a huge live board community in the South of Grenada, some are permanent liveaboards but others come out during the winter to escape the cold weather at home. I can see the attractions although the place is quite isolated if you don’t have you own transport. The nearest bus stop is about a half hours walk away although some bus drivers do deliver you to the marina for $10 EC which is about £3. It sometimes works out to their advantage as the time we did it, he must have picked up a few fares going the other way. To explain, the buses are all privately run and there are no bus timetables which must make hospital appointments a hit or miss sometimes. You basically wait at a bus stop for the next bus or if you are walking along a country road the bus will sound the horn and you put out your hand if you want to get on. They are regulated at the bus station but only move when they are full which could mean there is a wait of over half an hour. To stop a bus the passengers knock on the bus roof and shout next stop or words to that affect. We are so used to them now we think nothing of the stops and starts and detours the buses make. Some even pick up packages and deliver them to houses or shops.

Grenada had been hurricane free for many years until Hurricane Ivan hit followed very quickly by Hurricane Emily. The devastation can still be seen in the high rain forests with huge gaps where the trees were tumbled just like dominoes and most agriculture is now growing cocoa beans instead of nutmeg. The hurricanes wiped out 80% of the nutmeg trees on the island and as it takes about twenty years for a tree to mature the farmers had resorted to growing cocoa, which is – in my humble opinion – far better for the world as it means there will be far more superior dark chocolate to eat. Yum Yum!!!!

Mount Hartman Bay was where I was being left, on my own, in charge while Li went for his four monthly visit to see nice Mr Lowe. Now, I have sailed as first mate for almost three years on Ruby Tuesday and know her as well as the skipper but to be left in charge was an entirely new thing. What would I get up to? Would I single hand sail to Trinidad and Tobago and enjoy the Mardi Gras or maybe take on a young and virile new first mate and sail to Columbia and back. Or would I just enjoy the piece and tranquillity of the bay with little soirées ashore every now and again to explore some of Grenada? You guessed correctly. I spent the ten days the skipper was away cleaning Ruby, buying provisions, washing clothes and exploring some of Grenada. However, before he went and left me I had to prove (quite rightly) that I could dock the dingy in the marina and back on the boat, securely lift and lock the dingy back onto Ruby at night and switch on the mooring light so no one bumped into Ruby in the dark. The last item was the most taxing as it had to be done as the sun disappeared over the horizon and I kept on forgetting. I must confess one night it was switched on at 3am as I suddenly woke up remembering I hadn’t switched it on that evening.

My days were spent cleaning and wandering ashore for little walks around the many coves and bays in the south of Grenada. On the Wednesday I took the bull by the horns and blagged a lift on the free bus to the island chandlers. I wandered about the shop for what I thought was an appropriate time then told the bus driver that I couldn’t find what I needed and I would walk into town and get my own way back. He was surprisingly relaxed about the whole thing. Thank goodness. I strolled into the middle of George Town, walking past the upmarket marina Port Louis and around the carenage to the bus station where I got on a North going bus. I had no idea where I would end up but hey, mystery tours are good. The bus route followed the west coast through Gouyae where I noticed they had a fish fry on a Friday night, to Victoria which looked like a sizeable town. But it was going on so I decided so was I. It wound it’s way through picturesque countryside with glimpses of sandy beaches every now and again. As the bus approached the North coast it went inland through tall forests of greenery until we reached Sauteurs, a town right on the north coast where the bus terminated. This was a little town with a sandy wild beach with rollers breaking, not much to see, no touristy things but a glimpse of the lives of Grenadians that are not hampered by foreigners getting in their way. I had a good look around and had some lunch then caught another bus back to George Town. However, this journey was not as peaceful as a young lady took umbridge at an old man who wouldn’t move over to let her sit beside him. The argument went on for about an hour until the man got off then she was still bumping her gums to anyone that would listen. THEN, the bus driver made an unscheduled detour and stop to buy something from an out of way shop. The bus erupted. People were demanding him to get back on the road, I think as although English is spoken they speak a broken English to each other. It could be likened to Doric, which only the Aberdonians understand. THEN to add insult to injury, someone asked him to get something for them at the said out of the way shop. Oh dear, no punches were thrown but there was a lot of unhappy people on that bus going back to George Town. The poor driver got abuse all the way there but he just smiled and laughed. Whatever he bought at that out of the way shop made him mighty happy!!!!!

That was my one and only solo trip into the wilds of Grenada. I thought I would leave the chocolate plantation and rum distillery till Li got back.

My ten days of sole charge of Ruby was a resounding success. I managed to get back and forward to the dock and didn’t do any damage although it was a bit lonely and I was very happy to see the old man back. This journey is a fantastic adventure but much better with the two of us.

One trip that I asked Elsie to save until my return was to the local chocolate factory. We had sampled some of its product and I was keen to see it from tree to bar so, after a day to recover from my 22 hour journey back from Edinburgh, we set off for the grand tour. Booking by ‘phone, we were asked to assure that we could arrive by 10 AM. Shouldn’t be a problem. Elsie’s research into buses paid off but, even with a 7:30 start and a helpful lift to the first bus stop, a long wait at Georgetown (no-one else was heading out of town at that time in the morning) meant that we were 5 minutes late. As we were the only clients, it wasn’t really an issue.

Cocoa pod

Elsie turning the beans.

The tour was really enlightening. The whole process is run as a cottage industry, with the trees effectively growing wild on the hillsides mixed with many other species, including several spices. It is a continuous crop, with blossom and ripe fruit being simultaneously present on the same tree. The ripe, orange, pods are cut down by hand and have to be carried in baskets to the nearest road, often a significant distance. The extracted beans, covered in a sweet mucus, are placed in compost bins for 6 days to ferment, being turned every 2 days, before being turned out onto large, rail mounted, flat trays to dry in the sun. Here, they are pedally turned every 30 minutes and pushed under shelter if rain threatens. After a further 6 days, they are ready to go to the factory. This turns out to be the size of modest house, with 19^th century machinery and practice. They are hand sorted to remove any loose shells, stones etc. then roasted in small batches before being winnowed then pressed to separate the solids from the butter. Depending on orders, they are then mixed with other ingedients, including salt, sugar and nibs (splinters of unpressed bean) or just left as 100 % cocoa. The mixture is then heated to temper it and poured into moulds. The finished bars are tuned out and wrapped by hand, using paintbrushes to remove any surplus, and glue sticks to seal the paper wrappers.

World's smallest chocolate factory?

We finished the tour with an excellent lunch back at the estate including, naturally including chocolate with every course. Who knew that it could go so well with fried goat cheese or barbecued chicken? All washed down with banana, coconut and chocolate shake. Our ‘party bag’ include bars of 5 of the six products (missing out only on the 100% bar).

Cocoa presses.

Time to start heading north again as our current plan is to be in the Chesapeake bay area by 1^st June. This is about 2500 miles to go in 3 months. Not a vast distance but there are many things to see on the way. Our first leg, on the 23^rd, was 11 miles up the west coast of Grenada to Moliniere bay, where there is an underwater sculpture park. There are about 15 life sized human sculptures, including individual figures and circles over a couple of acres of shallow sea bed, amongst natural reefs. We took a mooring buoy in the next bay up then dingied round for me to snorkel round this (unfortunately one is not allowed to park ones yacht here, there are no land-able beaches and we couldn’t find a way for Elsie to board the dinghy from the water, so she missed out). Sadly, the unusual swell caused by unseasonal winds had stirred up the water which was rather cloudy so even I failed to find half the statues. Maybe we will go back and take a tourist trip one day.

On the 24^th, we sailed back to Tyrell bay on Carriacou. It was carnival time and, after our experience in La Gomera last year, we hoped that a small island would provide similar delights. Not much seemed to be happening over the weekend, so we concentrated on maintenance tasks. Elsie had cleaned the interior while I was away and now it was my turn for the bottom. Our anti-fouling, supposedly good for many years, was becoming ineffective. If we hauled out, I was undecided whether to use the last of the previous product (we still had 10 litres from a 25 litre tin) or something more appropriate to local conditions. I decided to try a good scrape and scrub in the water so spent 2 afternoons, first with snorkel and then with my little SCUBA pack and managed to get it 95% clean. We will see how long that lasts.

On the Monday, our timing for the carnival was well out. Our only information had come from a local and I had half recalled that Tuesday’s parade was scheduled for 2PM and that Monday was 2 hours different so we got to town for mid-day. It transpired that, after an all night party, the equivalent of La Gomera’s talcum parade occurs at 5 in the morning but using charcoal instead. The wreckage, in human and glass and polystyrene form was just being cleared away with the next scheduled event, the children's’ parade, being scheduled for 3 PM. Back to Ruby for lunch and a second attempt. By now the weather had turned and, with frequent showers no-one was making the decision to start, with participants lurking in various bars, shops, under verandas and anywhere else they could find shelter. We alternately sheltered, wandered and lurked. At about 4, a couple of splinter groups started their own parades, behind trucks pumping out kilowatts of music but it was all a little sad. The participants were either very young or beyond middle age, the in between ages having, presumably, exhausted themselves in the earlier celebrations. I suppose it is the same phenomenon as our familiar highland games, still taken seriously by the old and young but passed over by those in between in favour of the nightly marquee dances. We had intended to stay for Tuesday but, with similar weather forecast, we decided to continue north.

It was less than 40 miles to our next stop, Admiralty bay on Bequia and, with the wind forecast to be just north of east at 15 – 20 knots, it shouldn’t have been too challenging. Close hauled, but easily managed in a day. We had to book out, so I was at the port office soon after 8, while Elsie prepared Ruby for the day. Predictably, there was a delay with the paperwork (yesterday’s figures hadn’t added up) and we didn’t get away until past 9. With 2 reefs in, we made good progress to start with, though the wind was from further north than forecast. Even with a little cross current helping us to the east, we were pushed of course and had to put a 30 minute tack in to close the northern point of Union Island. The wind now increased to nearer 25 knots making progress uncomfortable and wet. It did veer round later but, by this time the cross current had changed and was now pushing us to the west. With 90 minutes to sunset, we still had 10 miles to go, almost directly into wind, so it was time to start the engine. We tried motor sailing – good progress but very uncomfortable, so the last 5 miles we just motored arriving at the anchorage in the last of the light and, fortunately, finding a good spot to drop the hook and wind down. The day confirmed our prejudice against sailing into wind and, unfortunately, the forecast was for more of the same in the coming days. We went to bed with no definite plans for progress.

Monthly stats:

Logged              136
Over ground      145