Tiny Turtles
Irie
Sun 13 Apr 2008 20:56
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Sunday 13th April (Happy Birthday Sarah)
We're still anchored in Admiralty Bay, though having moved
in a little to mitigate some of the swell that's arrived over the last day or
so. Today it's pretty wet, as there is another tropical wave weaving its way
through the islands, trailing a grey band of cloud that occasionally drops
extremely large lumps of water onto the bay. Despite this, Bequia feels like a
holiday. There are way fewer boats than when we were here last February, and up
to today the weather has continued in really benign mode. It's a shortish
swim to the beach, and at last some element of discipline has emerged with an
hours' vigorous swimming and walking before breakfast. It's just too easy
to slip into a sort of torpor and become totally boat bound especially with a
constant, gentle, mesmerising roll.
On Thursday we packed some water and hiked over to the
other side of the island. It's actually only a little over two miles,
though aimed at the 'more ambitious hiker' according to the
guide, which only goes to underline the stifling effect of
all this heat on ambition. It's a very pretty walk; initially a sharp pull up to
a saddle between two hills, followed by a winding descent with views of palm
trees, the Atlantic and neighbouring small islands. At the foot of the
hill is Spring Studio and Pottery, the inspiration of potter Mike Goddard. He's
spent thirty years potting here and also renovating part of an old sugar mill.
It's a combined workshop, gallery and house and has a quietly relaxed, open
feel, the materials in the various workshops blending with stone and wood of the
old buildings. From here, the road passes through fields with tall, tcoconut
palms shading occasional cows, and a plentiful population of goats. It's
very undeveloped, though some new roads pushed through the hillside
indicate signs of change. In the heyday of sugar, there were nine or so
plantations on the island. This was Spring - hence Spring bay, and the next was
Industry. The only legacy that's left are a few old buildings, boundaries and
names. This coast is much more rugged than the lee side, and Spring
Bay is a lovely semicircle of sand, edged with palms and with a line of
white breakers and rocks indicating the fringing reef. Out across the
bluey-green sea are the hazey outlines of uninhabited Botowia and
Baliceaux, and further to the right the northern tip of
Mustique.
Pressing on, the road crosses a small rocky headland
and then twists down into Industry. Nothing could be more inappropriately named.
To the left, on the land side, white painted timber fences protect
beautifully tended gardens surounding a couple of old colonial style properties.
To the right, another perfect bay, marred only by a nudist couple, stretched
full length in the sun, ostentationally close at hand and with
clearly placed towels giving some clue to nationality. Another little
headland reveals a rather more rocky indentation called Park Bay, and the
ultimate goal, The Oldhegg Turtle Sanctuary. This is the creation of
Brother King who retired some years ago and then set out to assist baby
turtles make a better start in life. Turtles are under great threat,
especially the sharp nosed Hawksbill, yet surprisingly there is no protection
and they are still netted for food and their shells. He's a lovely chap
who rails against government stupidity and oozes passion and zeal for what he's
doing. The survival rate for turtles is something like only one in a thousand,
and they don't start breeding till they are over twenty five years
old. The eggs are too delicate to move, but he collects the hatchlings, feeds
and strengthens them and then releases them safe from any beach side predators .
Even if he only increases the survival rate to ten or a dozen, the chances of
mature turtles returning are much greater. A Chinese family are visiting while
we're there and are fascinated, though whether their interest is conservation or
culinery is hard to tell.
It's a small world. Sheltering from the rain in a
convenient beachside bar, we started chatting to a couple who arrived by dinghy
and sprinted up the beach. Turns out they are Larry and Fiona, recently living
in Ash (two miles from us in Long Sutton) and now domiciled in Street. He
was in the Navy and often based at Yeovilton, and they're now cruising the
islands for a couple of years. We shared a beer or so, and have been invited for
sundowners later today - yet again the relentless pressure of
island life
Spring Bay, Botowia and Baliceaux
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