For the last few weeks, we've been tied to a mooring ball in Prickly Bay. Prickly is on Grenada's mangrove-covered South Coast near to St George's University. Most of its medical and veterinary students are international. They’re the ones who usually didn’t get in to their chosen university in their home country. But they’re laughing now…. they’re in Grenada! And around the corner from the Uni’s red-roofed sprawl, our anchorage is a protected bay with murky water, about 200 anchored yachts and the largest number of resident boat kids. No coincidence why we're here. There's great wifi too. In Prickly, American cruisers rub shoulders with Brits, Canadians stroll around, there's a smattering of French, the adults who don't mind wearing clothes anyhow, a few Germans. There are other nations here too. Swede Dreams is a large ketch anchored by the beach. Rothim, an Israeli catamaran, sells vegetarian food to the boats by dinghy on a Tuesday and Friday. After we eat it, we have no choice but to sit around and dream about sailing through the Pacific. Which is strange. If we ever go into the Pacific, I suppose we will say that the idea was born in a humous-filled dumpling. 

Meanwhile, the neighbourhood is covered in flowers. American medical student conversation wafts from joggers along the breeze and oversized developments sit on plots of land like tiled mushrooms. I have to admit: I get confused here. After anchoring in the cutlass-wielding, mango-strewn Grenada Marine and then the bus-hooting, jab-jab playing St George’s for so long. Some mornings I wake up, see the posh houses and wonder bleary-eyed if we're in Florida. To me, this place feels like self-segregation.

Still, there are boat kids! Cue all the cheering children! This is the place where there are parties on the beach, volleyball lessons, get togethers every afternoon. Conversations with boat parents have the same re-occurring theme. Curriculum. Which one, how much, various learning methods. I practice my sage nodding under the almond trees at the beach. We must look like a bunch of wanna-be teachers standing in our cozzies under the shade. All the while, kids come on the VHF all day, sounding like mini-captains. 'Let's go to channel 72,' they tell each other assuredly. Dinghies are floating cars here that don't need a licence to drive. Boat kids zoom past on kneel boards in gaggles of golden hair and glowing cheeks. The other day, Swede Dreams came over with a micro-chip-type hard drive that looked like she might plug it in and out of her brain. 'I give you my movies, you give me your movies,' she said, her smile a steam train with all the straightforwardness of her nation. 'This is what we do.' Aha. Now I understand the sharing rules in family-filled anchorages. And I'm delighted to announce that we finally have Crocodile Dundee! 

Life is made easy for cruisers in Prickly. For sure, you can get lost in its comforts, your feet stuck in the hot bread and focaccias at the main cafe; the Tiki Bar. There’s a cheap laundrette, a shop to buy ice, a huge friendly chandlery. Movie night is on a Sunday, quiz night on a Tuesday, the famous bingo is on a Wednesday. This is when actual Grenadians come to Prickly in numbers. Bingo prizes include mobile phone contracts, clothes of every description and farm animals. Let me repeat that last bit since it's so delicious. Yes, farm animals! Pigs, chickens, anything you may need to start an agricultural collection. In fact, I once met a woman on the bus who cackled loudly at her own good luck, telling me she'd won two pigs and a goat. Then after one Wednesday, a mildly deformed goat with an extra-long drooping neck was tied to various parts of the Tiki Bar. It bleated angrily every time we went past with Fin. 'Someone won it at Bingo,' we were informed, 'but they don't want it so we're trying to find it a new home.' And the very next day, the poor goat was gone. 

Love from Quest and her crew xx