Going South.
Oriole
Sun 19 Apr 2015 13:46
There is always something with boats and this time I noticed that one of the welds in part of our exhaust system was slightly oozing seawater and exhaust fumes, a part that has been replaced twice already in the life of Oriole. An old friend, ex RN submariner, gave us some "chemical metal" with which I have patched the leak and all seems to be well and will almost certainly see us back to Trinidad for a definitive cure. Maybe this is what he used on the Polaris submarines! This delayed our departure from Bequia by 24 hours while the repair was curing. Maybe I should keep a spare on board, and also some chemical metal!
Sunset over Admiralty Bay, Bequia.
We then had a lovely gentle sail, gentle because we were well reefed down in lively conditions, for thirty miles to Chatham Bay. There we sat, theoretically illegally, for a couple of days as we had checked out of the St Vincent Grenadines. However. we had the good "excuse" of a convenient engine problem. At one stage the enormous bay was reduced to one other yacht - just what we like. We had visitations from various very friendly boat boys and by appointment Shark Attack came out from the beach to see us for a little trade negotiation. We arranged a home delivery of cooked lobster at a very reasonable price and right on time it appeared for our supper, hot out of his kitchen.
Lobster attack and the skipper looks almost asleep.
After a short period of wilderness we are now back with the throng in Tyrrel Bay. Lots of friends here and we have a gathering organised for Sunday Lunch ashore.
Our marauding ferry is still engineless, more or less tied to the dock, and we understand that the shipping company (so called) is now under the control of the senior female member of the family and there has been a big shake up and the males are much diminished! The ferry will never sail again under their control and buyers are sought, but it is now probably scrap iron only!
The Chatham Bay's Laughing Gulls have an early morning feeding frenzy on shoals of small fry.
Their call is everywhere in the Grenadines.
This morning at 0700 I was sitting out in the cockpit in the cool of the early morning when a minor commotion took place 200 yards up wind of us. A small barge/steel float was being manoeuvred in very squally conditions and had got somewhat out of control. Fortunately it was under the manager of a very competent tug man, who had incidentally been very kind and helpful to us after our ferry incident, and after throwing anchors out all over the place control was re-established and all was well. We had visions of getting our anchor up in a hurry to get out of the way.
There is never a dull moment.