Rolly in the Grenadines
Irie
Thu 12 Mar 2009 22:46
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Position 13 00.5N 61 14.5W Admiralty Bay,
Bequia
Thursday 12th March
Well, our second set of visitors have come and
gone, and we're settled in Bequia for a few days till Geoff and Val arrive. We
normally settle along the beach on the south side of the bay, but for the second
time in a week, the forecast is for some unsettled weather. A
thousand miles to the northeast, another unseasonally deep low is moving
south east, creating quite a lot of wind and a nasty steep swell from the north
that's once again making many of the anchorages here very uncomfortable. Out to
the west, a ridge of high pressure is accelerating the northerly winds, and
dragging cold air all the way down from the Canadian seabord, so it's also
fresher than usual, though the water's still just perfect for
swimming.
It's all very different from the weather ten
days ago as we left Grenada. The trip up to Cariacou was the
flattest we'd had, and the early start from Prickley Bay saw the anchor
bite into Tyrrell's sands just after 2.30 in the afternoon. The new cutlass
bearing has certainly stopped the rumble from the stern tube, and the rudder
seems to be lighter. A little exploration ashore and some rubbish
dumping, was followed in short order by a couple of sundowners in Lambi's and
then excellent pizzas in the Turtle Bar - not a bad start for the first trip
with the new gear. On day two we took the local buses over to the windward side
of the island, to a village called ....Windward. It's sheltered behind a
protective fringing reef and it's very low key, totally unspoiled and
the focal point of the traditional boatbuilding in the Grenadines.
There are a number of largish boats framed up just off the beach, though little
sign of current activity. Most of the chaps seemed to be gathered at Mrs Roberts
Bar providing varied and vociferous advice on how a small motorboat rudder
should be patch welded. Just how many Grenadians does it take to weld a rudder?
Well apparently about twelve; one who owns the welder, one who owns the rudder,
one to weld and nine to manage the assortment of spliffs and beer -
great fun. Back on the bus by way of Hillsbrough, and then on to the Hardwood
Bar on Paradise Beach for a fish lunch, yet again probably the best quality and
value we experienced. Here it became apparent that the Keerys camera was
missing, probably on the bus from Windward. Bar owner Joyce phoned
the Central Police Station and Marian gave our description of bus
and driver - 'In Him We Trust' on the purple visor, 'Jesus Saved Me' over the
door and a stuffed lion on the dash. 'I tink I know him' said the officer, so
John and I bussed back into town. At the police station the officer said he'd
catch the bus on its next trip, then volunteered that Mrs Pearce, the man's
wife, worked in Hubbards supermarket (International quality since 1933!).
Mrs Pearce obligingly phoned her old man, who was at
lunch so couldn't check, so she told John to return in fifteen
minutes. A short beer later John returned - Mrs Pearce at lunch. Twenty
minutes later another try, and yes he's found it and on his way in. Another
twenty minutes propped in the sun studying the good folk of Hillsborough and
here he is and the camera's back - the joys of a small, and very
friendly community. Back in Paradise, the ladies swam and soaked up
the sun, and then we strolled back the mile or so to Tyrrell for a little camera
celebration on the boat.
Thursday the weather's still idyllic, so we elect
to head straight for the Cays by way of: Sandy island - snorkelling,
Hillsborough - clearing out, Petit Martinique - fuel and water, and Union
- clearing in. By 3.30, we're secure in three metres of crystal clear, azure
water. Within two minutes Desperado arrives with fish, and sells us a couple of
large dorado steaks - at least it says Desperado on the side of his
pirogue, but he insists his name's Kevin. After a little fish cleaning on the
transom, swimming commences, and whether it's the fish or just coincidence, a
couple of very large eagle rays start tootling around the boat, circling, diving
and seeming to come up for a look. They are stunning, some five feet across
with beautifully spotted backs, white undersides and large eyes on very
defined heads that are a sort of a cross between a dolphin and a labrador.
They're pretty harmless, but cause a degree of consternation to some of the
swimmers, especially when briefly joined on the bottom by a four foot nurse
shark - also innocuous. The Attenborough moment is completed by a couple
of stingrays who fly gracefuly in formation over the sand beneath the
boat.
One of the boat vendors who crosses over from Union
daily is called Walter. He appears at 6.30am and is a larger than
life character with a great deep voice and four enormous, glittering gold
teeth. He sailed the seas on container ships in his youth
to 'See de world at somebody elses expense', and then settled in
Union selling bread, ice and tee shirts. We buy banana bread 'Made specially
by de new wife', and he mentions that a big swell is coming. It soon
becomes apparent from the forecast that the first of these nasty lows is forming
up to the north east. Although still a fair distance away, it's much further
south than usual, and throwing some nasty fronts and some wind down through the
islands. It's also creating these very large swells, but fortunately, Tobago
Cays with its surrounding reefs and little islands is about as sheltered from a
sea event as you can be, though somewhat exposed to the breeze. We move on up in
the anchorage to shallower water under the lee of a little island and settle in.
It does blow a bit, but there's no rain and the seas are spectacular, crashing
on the the reef all around us in a white welter of surf and spume. Inside the
Cays it's business as usual - swimming alongside turtles, ambling with
tortises, staring out defiant iguanas and snorkelling with myriads of fish and a
beautiful little group of fluttering cuttlefish. Desperado, nee Kevin reappears
with a fresh yellow snapper. Evenings start with a small tincture, some
fine food and a couple of hands of Hearts, with a chocolate reward for the
winner.
Bequia, where the Keerys leave us is 25 miles dead
up wind and swell, and by Sunday, it's still blowing and the swell'sstill up,
but we decide to have a bash on Monday with the Union island
steamer as a back up. Monday morning, we're off the anchor just after 7.30,
and motor sailing up under the lee of Canouan. It's OK here, but becomes very
lumpy out in the real sea,with a sharp wind chop over a steep and shortish
swell. Still, the sun's out and Irie's more than happy pegging
along. Everything flattens out under Bequia and by 12.30, we're
anchored on the north side in a nice little gap on a 3 metre shelf that must
have recently been vacated - another stage is complete. Monday's rounded off by
an excellent fish dinner at L'Auberege Restaurant, and Tuesday passes
gently with a little wandering, some last minute shopping for the travellers and
several sundowners in a variety of shoreside bars. Wednesday morning J and M
board the Bequia Express bound for St Vincent, they wave wildly as she steams
past Irie, we roll in the wash, and then they round the headland and are gone.
It's been great fun, and despite the delayed start, together we've shared some
of our favourite Caribbean places.
John and Marian, well up to to
Windward
 Walter displaying teeth and wares
 Yellow snapper, perfectly done
 J and M practising semaphore on the top
deck
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