Deep Bay, Antigua

Serafina
Rob & Sarah Bell
Fri 17 Feb 2012 15:58

17:07.62N 61:53.19W

 

Wed & Thurs – 15th & 16th Feb

 

Turtle watching has consumed us for the past two days. Of the big Caribbean 5, dolphin and whale have been invisible, pelicans and frigates stand-offish, whilst the turtle has teased on a regular basis. Like shooting stars, you can never see one when someone else has spotted it. So Tim ‘Bailey’ was proving highly unsuccessful resorting to scenic views which at least had the advantage of not disappearing as soon as a lens was pointed at them.

Rob enabled a snorkel tour of Green Island’s fringes for Laura and Tim whilst Pips kept Rob company and collectively tried to spook a rare bird of prey from its tree-top perch. Disdainfully, it refused to move, so the rib was once more stored and we took our leave of Nonsuch heading for Falmouth, Shirley Heights and a meal on dry land to give the commissariat a well-earned rest.

The journey was uneventful, particularly for those of us laid flat on our back, knocked out by the Stugeron. Falmouth brought more yacht-ogling-envy and a trip to the shop, or was that shops. Souvenir shopping was successfully completed once Sarah had disentangled us from cruise ship customers and established us as almost as good as residents. Pips chose an unusual bartering method – honesty. She really did think the price was in East Caribbean dollars not US and was rewarded with a substantial discount.

A twenty minute nose-powdering turnaround led to a return visit to quayside and a taxi up to Shirley Heights courtesy of Eric’s (“as in Clapton”) taxi. What a view! We jostled for position with professional photographers, even trying the old ‘kick over the bottle of beer’ trick to establish a place on the front row.  The self-timer picture was duly taken, despite having professional help on hand, and we settled down to wait for the green flash – and we were rewarded. Everyone said what a fantastic flash it had been. Even the best editing techniques of digital photography have failed to reveal the evidence thus far. And one more thought from a photographic point of view – isn’t it embarrassing when you have left the camera settings on self-timer and you take another photo amongst a group only to hear the tell-tale beep, beep, beep of the timer as you hold the camera in place like an idiot for 10 seconds.

We survived and descended to supper in a lovely pizzeria. The salads were impressive, the service smiley as we celebrated another day in paradise. We returned to Serafina for an early night, but we hadn’t anticipated the Mexican Train! Clearly bruised by her mauling in the first of the series (was it a series when we started?) Sarah insisted on another game. When stumps were drawn  two rounds had been completed and Sarah had failed to register any points which, in Mexican Train, meant that she was winning, handsomely.

The next morning brought a visit from Arougoo, electrical engineer, as Rob sought to rectify problems with the radio and the  Invertor. I speak as if I know of such things:  I don’t. Rob does though and electrician is one of his many guises. Others include helmsman, boat rigger, drinks waiter, snorkel fixer, water taxi, local historian, wildlife photographer, winchman, and general helpmate to incompetents. So while Arougoo whistled to the radio in various frequencies, watching for Tommy the Turtle continued on deck with similar results to last time.

The electrical problems had given us a glimpse of the other side of paradise: constant maintenance and repairs. Major surgery was put off for another day and we set off for Deep Bay. The winds picked up sufficiently for all the Curtii to take a turn at the helm with varying degrees of concern for Rob. The relative lack of wildlife – turtles excepted – was in part offset by a rock doing a very convincing impression of a tree frog. But what we were really watching was the sea and its amazing colours. Let’s hope Bailey captured that one to impress the folks at home.

Deep Bay proved an inspired location for the final night. Palm fringed beaches, wrecks, pelicans and … more turtles. We snorkelled and swam, trod the virgin sand (well almost), watched the cruise liners loom large in front of us as they departed St John’s and the sun set beautifully behind us with, yes, another green flash (missed that one as well!). The last rum punches were downed, the last supper consumed and all that was left was … Mexican train. But that will be Rob and Sarah’s tale to tell when we are, sadly, far from this beautiful island, these lovely, generous people and their gorgeous yacht.