St Vincent and the Grenadines-Union Island and poison fruit

12:36.205N 61:27.116W

10th January 2015

5406 Miles from Ramsgate by log.

I finished the last blog with us going ashore in Carriacau for a look around, then to book out of customs and head onto Union Island the following morning. As seems the norm a simple couple of days got a bit complicated. We took the dinghy ashore and while Norma booked out of customs Steve and myself filled the spare petrol cans for the outboard. Incidentally I poured the last 20 litre can of diesel into the main tanks that morning which filled them to the brim, that was the last of our Mindelo stocks and so since leaving the Cape Verdes we have only used about 90 litres of fuel which isn’t bad at all. Anyway I digress, all going well so far; while Steve took the dinghy back to Spectra to drop the fuel off Norma and myself walked along the shoreline of Tyrell bay to meet up with him further down by a café that we had spotted from the boat. All still going well; after locking up the dinghy we ate a late breakfast and found ourselves relaxed sitting in the shade of a tree waiting by the side of the road for the local busy bus to take us into town. At this point Steve ever the curious one picked up what looked like a little round apple and said , “smell that it is really sweet”. Of course me being me I took a sniff, liked the smell, licked it liked the taste and so ate it. It had a sweet not unpleasant taste and so I encouraged Norma to give it a go. Luckily she only touched her tongue to it and agreed it tasted not bad at all. Within 10 minutes or so my mouth was tingling, not unlike it would if you had eaten ginger, but this got a whole lot worse a whole lot quicker. Norma also had the same symptoms but thankfully to a much lesser degree. Over the next couple of hours my mouth, throat and lips began to blister and so getting worried, Norma asked in a local shop what they thought the fruit was. The woman looked very concerned and said it was a Manchineel, while repeatedly saying that it was very bad, very poisonous and advising  us to go to the doctor immediately. The doctors was shut until 2pm but at least we didn’t have to make an appointment and so we waited for an hour in a bar across the street trying out an old military cure for all ails, drinking beer to sooth my blistered mouth. I had at this stage started to form blisters on the inside of my gums beside my teeth and down my throat which I can assure you was bringing a whole new level of joy to the day. As soon as the doctor heard what had happened he prescribed a barrage of pills and ointments and advised us to go to the hospital if we experienced any breathing difficulties. I said, “this sounds a bit serious Doctor”, which came out, “wiss founds a bith erious Tractor” to which he simply said, “that fruit is very poisonous, it is very serious”, that was a bit sobering to say the least. Anyway pills and potions purchased we were now experiencing stomach cramps and I was very sweaty and feverish so it was not a pleasant trip back to the boat for anyone on the busy bus. That night the symptoms slowly died down which was a relief for both of us and on checking on the internet we found the comment, “The Manchineel is one of the worlds most poisonous trees, the fruits are red or green and are sometimes called beach apples, the Spanish commonly called it the apple of death. Even standing under it in the rain can cause blistering of the skin and if burnt the smoke can cause blindness”. Well we really don’t do things by half do we? As for Steve he was fine and resolutely refused to take any responsibility for feeding me the ‘Apple of Death’ no matter how hard I tried to pile on the guilt.

Friday started bright and breezy for our sail up to Union Island which went more or less incident free, although the last 6 mile or so was a slog directly to windward which with my stomach still cramping was the closest I have ever come to being sea sick. After booking into customs at the airport, which incidentally has a runway narrower than some streets I have lived on, we moved around the corner to Chatham bay and dropped the hook for the night. After a beach BBQ that evening (my appetite had returned with a vengeance) we turned in as the wind was picking up for what turned out to be an absolutely rubbish night. Midnight and I moved myself from the marital bed into the cockpit as the boat was getting a bit bouncy, 2 am found me fully awake and reaching for my foul weather gear as 30 knot gusts and heavy rain squalls whistled through the anchorage. At 3 am the wind switched 180 degrees and the large French Catamaran which had been behind us was suddenly in front of us and dragging its anchor. I started the engine and shouted Norma and Steve up and we managed to get clear with only his ensign broken, but we then had to re-anchor in driving rain and some monster squalls. I was seriously debating heading out to sea when the hook finally gripped in 15 meters of depth and things settled down. Spectra was soaked inside and out and so were the crew, but needless to say it was an anchor watch for the rest of the night as squall after squall ripped across the anchorage.

That leads us onto this morning where we find a bedraggled and tired bunch aboard the good ship Spectra. Norma has finally gone to bed after being up for most of the night while Steve and myself have just re-anchored again to tuck us into the corner of the bay for a bit more shelter tonight as it is still very blustery. Tobago Cays has been removed from the agenda for today and we are simply going to do nothing, which sometimes is a very good thing indeed.

Having said that Steve has just started to pull the anchor chain out onto the deck  to make the depth markings clearer for next time, I don’t know whether to applaud his keenness or feed him a Manchineel, I really don’t!!

Happy report next time I promise…………………

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