Grenada Part 4 - buses; cookers; the West Indies Brewing Company and another re-union.

On Thursday the 22nd (I think) we took a 'bus' over the peninsula to Prickly Bay, another major yachting centre but on the Island's south east coast.

"'Bus'" because Grenadian buses are actually mini buses. They appear to operate on the same basis as Barbados' private bus network. The routes are formally designated but the 'buses' seem to be privately operated and most play loud garage type music at full blast. Being minibuses there's no way that anyone can stand up, but they don't start a journey until every seat is occupied. The seating includes flip up seats on every row so that every square inch of space can be used by a fare paying passenger. Remarkably, despite starting off every journey packed with passengers, we rarely witnessed an occasion when the bus couldn't squeeze another passenger on board.

On arrival at Prickly Bay we first visited the Chanderlry in the hope of finding some replacement burner covers for the cooker. One of our existing burners has become so corroded that its increasingly difficult to use it except on full power. The second is now also becoming temperamental. We had no luck however.

We then decided to explore the area on foot and walked around the large boatyard and then a very extensive industrial area, which, whilst not the slightest bit photogenic, did underline the the feeling that the local economy was on good health.

Soon after we stumbled across one of the economy's jewels, the West Indies Brewing Company - a clearly very successful local craft brewing enterprise..

They were into re-purposing too...

Whilst sampling one of their numerous brews, a message came through from Gary on the OCC's Carribbean WhatsApp Group. He'd just arrived in Prickly Bay and discovered his outboard engine was kaput - did anyone know of anyone locally who could fix it? He would have a lot of rowing to do in the meantime!

No we didn't but we were local - did that count? Any excuse for (another) drink and so off we dashed to Prickly Bay Marina Restaurant to help Gary drown his sorrows.

The last time Mick and Gary had met was when we were all in Madeira in August, but Gary and I had met more recently in Pasito Blanco at Agustin's OCC party in November. We had a lot to catch up on and a drink morphed into lunch. Amazingly, they had bangers and mash on the menu and it wasn't at all bad - except that is for the total lack of mustard! Then  more drinks and then it was getting dark.

"Would you mind giving me a tow back to the boat?" Gary asked. "Not in the slightest." I replied. "The trouble is our dinghy's in Saint George's!"

Gary therefore had to row back to his boat in the dark and we had a long walk and bus ride back to Saint George's. He's also planning on heading for the USA, so we may well see him again.

Grenada Part 3 - Bonny's new Solar Wings

Sunday the 18th started (eventually) with consideration of how to make best use of the new solar panels. Initially the intention had been to replace the top panel of 150 Watts with the two new ones, which combined, would produce a theoretical 230 Watts. However, that would have required making a new frame for the new panels and would have left us with no good place to which to relocate the old panel. 

Mick then established that if we repositioned the existing side panels, there would be just enough room to squeeze the new panels on the guard rails. So that's what we did. 

The physical relocation of the existing panels and the installation of the new panels took the whole day. Luckily I had enough bits and bobs on the boat for us to do that. 

The next day after another slow start we got ashore and bought all the cables and connectors we needed to wire the new panels in. That took most of Tuesday but it was worth it. Our maximum charging rate has now jumped from 15 Amps to 25 Amps. Even with the fridge compressors running overtime to keep food cool and to make ice, we're now able to top up the batteries to 100% by midday. They typically start the day at 70%. 

So, with care we should now have enough Amps for all our needs on long passages too - in addition to the fridges, that includes, running the navigation stuff, the watermaker and the Starlink (sparingly). 🤞🤞🤞!

Grenada Part 2 - Saint George's; local enterprise; the 'other' cruisers - does Britannia really Rule the Waves?

Friday 16/2 was our first full day here at Saint George's and we decided to explore the town before picking up our new solar panels.

After the dinghy ride to the Grenda Yacht Club which took about 15 minutes from our mooring outside the harbour, it was about a 20 minute walk around the inner water front and up the hill north of the harbour, to the edge of town.

The harbour was attractive and bustling with activity - with small local trading boats being loaded, fishing boats preparing for their next trip, and tripper boats taking on tourists. All in all, the harbour's economy seemed to be in pretty good shape in stark contrast to the scenes at Bridgetown, Barbados.

Some of the streets had a distinctly English south coast feel about them - this for example could be Ramsgate or Dover.....

A number of colonial era buildings had been kept in good repair adding to the feeling that we were in a thriving port town...

Up the hill, we came to the church pictured at the start of this post. If you look closely, you will notice it's damaged. Here's why...

After the church, we headed for the fort at the top of hill. Unfortunately for us it was swathed in scaffolding and netting undergoing maintenance, but this was also another indication that the island is being well cared for.

Unfortunately we missed the island's celebrations of it's 50th year of independence from Britain a couple of weeks ago. 

https://grenadaturns50.gd/celebrate-50/

Short history of Grenada

By all accounts the celebrations were a great success with visitors being made most welcome. It seemed there was little bitterness directed towards Grenada's ex colonial rulers. Quite something given the idland's tumultuous history of oppression by those rulers (click the short history link).

Thus far, due to making the installation of our new solar panels our priority, we have not explored much of the island, but from what we have seen, Grenada seems to be thriving despite challenging times.

After looking round Fort George we descended the hill into the bustling town and found ourselves in the market area where we went in search of a much needed cold beer.

We were immediately hailed by a local good natured 'hustler' -  a sort of self appointed independent waiter who had 'attached' himself to one of the market's food and drink joints. He waved us to a table and took our order for beers over to the counter. It was clear from his interaction with the counter staff later, when we ordered food, that he was indeed acting independently and making his income soley from the tips he received from visitors like us. It clearly suited the vendor who received a marketing, selling and waitering service completly free of charge and of course he earned his living! I had to admire his enterprise and somehow he seemed to encapsulate the spirit of the island. 

He probably had a good day because in addition to yachty cruisers like us wandering around as potential unsuspecting victims of his craft, the cruise ship Britannia had docked and the town was in receipt of a glut of a rather different type of cruiser. Readers may remember that Bonny had had a close encounter with Britannia a few weeks ago off Bridgetown, Barbados, when drifting smack bang in front of her as she approached the port. Becalmed in the early hours of a morning with, thanks to the skipper's carelessness, a rope wrapped round her propeller, Bonny was, for a time, "not under command" and at the mercy of Britannia's officer on watch.

During the course of our lunch two couples who were passengers from Britannia were also ensnared by 'our' waiter and placed on our table. We chatted to both of them for some time and thoroughly decent types they were too.

Both couples were from the UK. One couple were, as it were, repeat offenders, but becoming less enthusiastic with the type of holiday; the others were on their first cruise, but they too had concerns about the cruising modis operandi. 

They both found the very limited amount of time they were able to spend ashore a major frustration. Typically a cruise ship travels between destinations overnight and docks in the morning. Passengers then have the day to explore before having to return to the ship at 5pm. All well and good if visiting a very small island, but they have no chance of exploring an island like Grenada in that time. 

On the occasional longer passage when the ship is underway during the day, cruisers of 'modest' means (of which I took our lunch companions to be) find themselves competing with one another for the various on-board attractions and facilities.

Both couples were uneasy about the pricing structure of the typical cruise too. Broadly, there seem to be two types of 'all-in' package. One is all you can eat, the other is all you can eat and drink. The drinks apparently add an extra £800 to the price and both couples - even the one including an ex army man with 30 years service - had concluded there was no way they could drink that much on board!

Their primary concern though, was that this covered all meals for every day of the cruise, thereby disincentivising cruisers from spending in the local economy (we had previously heard from Teacher Annie on Canaoun, that cruiser visitors there even came ashore armed with packed lunches). Fortunately, it seems that some cruisers at least had the means and 'appitite' to forgo their 'free' lunches.

After our excursion to town we collected the new solar panels from the Chanderlry and returned to the boat. The task of fitting them would commence the following day.

Grenada Part 1 - a pressing need, a hog and a re-union

Saint George's Harbour, Grenada

After an enjoyable few days in Tyrell Bay, Carriacou, it was the13th February and we had still not done everything I had hoped we would. A trip to the aptly named village of "Windward" on the north west corner of the island, where, Steve assured me, one could still find local shipwrights building wooden boats on the beach, was top of the list; closely followed by a visit to the Mangrove nature reserve. However, the forecast for the following day was for a fresh wind just south of east, with it shifting further south for the next few days.

That meant we could make Grenada reasonably comfortably the following day, but after that we faced the prospect of being hard on the wind or even beating to in order to get there. Saint George's, the capital near the southern tip of the island's leeward (east) coast, was a full day's sail provided we maintained a steady five knots in the right direction. If we had to beat it would take longer.

The other option was simply to sit tight and wait for the wind to revert to a more favourable direction.

Grenada may end up being as far south as we venture and is also where we will collect and install two new solar panels in a bid to generate sufficient solar power to meet our electricity usage. 

In the very warm temperatures of the tropics, our small freezer (whose primary responsibility was to make ice for our daily sundowners) was consuming lots of electricity in its efforts to dip below freezing! The temperature of beer in the fridge also left a lot to be desired. The Mate was most concerned therefore, that we were facing a considerable crisis and that not a moment should be lost in tackling it. The need to run Starlink once we started undertaking long passages once again was of course a further consideration!

Mindful of the need to keep the crew happy, I had therefore, already ordered and paid for two new solar panels from a Chandlery in Saint George's, Grenada, and wanted to get them installed as quickly as possible. A little reluctantly therefore, I decided to set off for Grenada the following day.

As it turned out, the wind was more favourable than expected and we were able to lay a course down the windward side of the island. This would enable us to stop off at one or two of the sheltered bays on the island's southern windward coast, before moving on to Saint George's with a favourable wind. 

We enjoyed a cracking close reach sail and on the recommendation of our American friends Paul and Lori, who had just been in Grenada, we headed for the sheltered anchorage at Hog Island, rather than the more exposed "Prickly Bay", to which I had planned to go.

We arrived at around 1600 and after scoured the entire bay for space to anchor, rather reluctantly picked up one of the numerous mooring buoys. The water was too murky to examine the mooring tackle below the surface but we could see a thick rope ran through the centre of the buoy which also looked in good condition.

The bay was certainly sheltered, but except for a small beach on the opposite side from us, trees ran right down to the water's edge. It would also be a long dinghy trip to get ashore. 

The following morning we therefore decided to explore the bay next door - Clarke Courts Bay. This was much bigger, but was more exposed to the wind and waves and was similarly unattractive and would require a long dingy ride from any available anchor spot or mooring. After some debate we decided to carry on round to Saint George's. 

Once safely through the passages between the coral reefs under power, we headed south under Genoa alone. After rounding the southern end of the island, we hoisted the mainsail for the close hauled leg up to Saint George's. With a flat sea in the lee of the island, but a with good breeze, we had a very pleasant sail and picked up a buoy outside the harbour at around 1415. We were now in a marine conservation area and anchoring was not permitted because of the damage caused to the sea bed.

After a late lunch we dinghed ashore to meet Natasha and Sila for drinks in the Grenada Yacht Club.

Natasha is the younger sister of my old friend Steve. I only recently discovered via Steve, that she had got into sailing and that she and her partner, Sila, had bought a boat in 2022, with the intention of crossing the Atlantic with the ARC-Plus Rally in 2023. I met them in Plymouth in late June 2023 when they were working round the clock on the boat to prepare it for the crossing; but prior to that, I had only met Natasha as a child back in the 1970's! 

We had stayed in touch since June and I'd heard from Natasha that they had suffered persistent problems with their engine during their travels. Since arriving in Grenada with the ARC-Plus fleet in December, they had therefore been confined to Grenada trying to repair the engine.

On meeting up at the Grenada Yacht Club we learnt that subject to a final compression test on the engine the next morning, the engine was to be condemmed. They had decided they had wasted enough time and money trying to repair it and would now replace it. They had tracked down a supplier in the UK who could ship a like for like replacement within two weeks and a boat yard in Clarkes Court Bay who could install it. Like us they were on a fairly meagre budget and would therefore have to borrow the funds to pay for it!

Despite their troubles we had a most enjoyable evening catching up with eachothers stories and plans for the rest of the pre-hurricane season. Natasha and Sila are hopeful that once the new engine is installed, they will still have six weeks left to explore some of the Carribbean before having to depart for the UK.

Next: Saint George's, solar panels and another re-union.

Carriacou: rock and roll; new friends, old friends; The Pirates of Tyrell Bay and Carnival

That's the view over Tyrell Bay where we're anchored at the south end of the island.

We arrived on Friday lunchtime after a brisk, 1 reef, close hauled sail of less than 3 hours from Chatam Bay.

On arrival, the Bay was flat but after a couple of hours a very significant swell was pushing in. It built up all afternoon and we ended up having a pretty sleepless night. 

The next day the swell was at its height and large waves were chrashing onto the beach. Some boats looked in serious danger of being wrecked. Look at the boat towards the right of cente in the following sequence...

Thankfully there were no casualties.

We learned later that an intense low front which had come down from the northern Caribbean was the cause of the swell, which, according to long term cruisers of these parts, was quite exceptional.

We spent an hour + checking in with the authorities which involved being scolded by a rather officious and offhand Customs lady for various minor misdemeanors like standing in front of the door!

Then we checked out the 'Town', established where the supermarkets were and bought some essential provisions - two bottles of rum!

On our way back to the boat we passed another flying the OCC flag and invited them over for drinks that evening.

Thankfully the swell had subsided somewhat by the time Steve and Ann-Marie arrived. They turned out to be very experienced Caribbean cruisers who kept their boat out here and spent every winter here. The rest of their time they spend between the UK and Southern Africa which they have explored extensively by land.

In addition to telling us about their travels and giving us tips on where to go, they warned us about a couple of shady characters - two local brothers - operating a scam in the bay. They entice unsuspecting cruisers (usually charter catermarans because typically their crews are less experienced) to make use of 'their' dodgy moorings. Apparently some violence and damage has occurred on occasions when things have gone awry.

After hearing their description by our new friends, I suspected that I had unwittingly already fallen victim to their unsavoury endeavours. Earlier in the day I had bought bananas from one of them. We had run out and I thought it proper to support local enterprise. I asked for ripe ones but he didn't have any. "Not to worry" I thought, they won't take long to ripen, so I bought a bunch. Subsequently, it turned out that I had been done. They were green bananas and would never ripen in a month of Sundays.

The very next morning I saw the two rogues at work again - they were guiding a French charter catermaran onto a mooring buoy near us. The grateful crew clearly handed over money for the service and mooring provided.

Once the brothers had departed the skipper left to check in. I waved him over and explained what we had heard and suggested he dive to check the mooring. Easier said than done in the murk stirred up by the swell, but they did and discovered they were tethered by a rather thin line. They moved to another mooring!

Later in the day one of the rogues came alongside and demanded to know what I had said to the French crew. I replied that my conversations with other people were my private. In response he started shouting and swearing. Much of what he said was incomprehensible, but his manner was most aggressive. He was clearly trying to intimidate me. I immediately decided attack was the best form of defence and so shouted abuse back at him with interest. I was determined to show him that I was not going to be intimidated.

A very public row then erupted in the middle of the anchorage for a few minutes, with me inviting him to "just come and try" whatever it was he was threatening to do. Being a few feet above him, I felt quite safe in doing so. I'd already calculated that if he did, I would be quite within my rights to 'repel borders' and that it would also be quite easy to do so. He was rather large and overweight, neither of which would have been to his advantage if he had tried to clamber aboard.

He no doubt came to the same conclusion because he eventually motored off hurling further abuse over his shoulder. 

I think Mick was rather stunned by the whole unsavoury episode but for a couple of minutes I was congratulating myself for 'seeing off a bad un'. Then the potential consequences of humiliating the local pirate in public began to occur to me. Will he come back with his brother or other reinforcements to get revenge under cover of darkness? Will he damage the boat? Will he pinch the dinghy? Will he muder us while we sleep?

"Oh bugger" I thought, "here's another fine mess I've got us into". "I think I'd better cancel our evening out" I said to Mick. We'd been due to meet some sailing friends ashore. Better get the dinghy up on deck too and lock up the outboard motor!

I toyed with the idea of locking ourselves in for the night but it would have become unbearably hot. Instead I retired with a dinghy oar and the fog horn close to hand. If they did get aboard I'd make a hell of a lot of noise and land some painful, but non life-threatening blows with the oar, and hopefully cause them to abandon the attempt!

Suffice to say I didn't sleep a wink that night!

I sent a text to our new friends to appraise them of the situation and they very kindly suggested we re-anchor near them and a friend of theirs, so we wouldn't be such an  easy target out on our own!

So the next morning, having survived the night without being murdered in our bunks, that's what we did and then spent a very enjoyable couple of hours with them yarning about goodness knows what over coffee.

Before going over, I'd received a message from another OCC couple - Paul and Lori - whom we had met in and last seen in, Pasito Blanco, Gran Canaria, to say they would be arriving in Tyrell Bay shortly.They had sailed to Gambia and then crossed to Grenada. 

I therefore invited them over for a beer. We spent the rest of the day catching up with each others travells and exchanging recommendations about places to visit. We were bound for Grenada where they had just come from and they were heading north through the Grenadines where we had just sailed through. 

Our afternoon included a trip ashore for lunch in a restaurant Paul and Lori knew. Whilst there, Paul engaged a young couple in conversation. It turned out they were sailors too, from the Netherlands, but more of them later!

Whilst Paul and Lori were with us on Bonny, a dinghy full of lively young people came by. They looked familiar. Of Course, it was Adam, Liv, Ben and Charlotte whom we had last seen in Sal, Cape Verde. They had just arrived but were moving on to a Bay round the corner and would then be heading north. We had hopes of meeting up again later in the season.

Today (Monday 12/2/24) we went into the main town of Hillsborough to see the Carnival. First we undertook a half an hour walk to beautiful Paradise Beach. Steve and Ann-Marie had suggested we drop into to Beach Club there for lunch. We did, only to immediately bump into Adam and his crew. Their boat was anchored off the beach and they were all recovering from having attended the early morning 'Jouvert' at Carnival where everyone gets covered in old engine oil and paint. We saw a repreise of it later...

We joined them for lunch and recognised two other faces. It was the young Dutch couple from the Restaurant yesterday! It turns out that the two crews had met up in Tabago weeks earlier, after their respective Atlantic crossings.

More yarning and catching up with our various journeys and where next discussions followed. They then retired to their boats to recharge their batteries in preparation for attending the late night carnival festivities whilst Mick and I walked on into Hillsborough to see the afternoon parades.

They were very colourful and VERY, VERY loud.

He's only sleeping!

After that we'd had enough and returned to the boat by minibus.

Union Island: a windy home from home, a brush with the authorities and a missed opportunity

Another short sail on Sunday 4th February took us to Clifton, the main port and town on Union Island, named after an early British trading vessel (follow link to YouTube video at the end of this post). 

Apparently a major project is underway to rejuvenate the island's indigenous population of tiny colourful gekos.

Unusually, the island's main port is on the windward side of the island but is surrounded by an extensive coral reef. Therefore whilst fully exposed to the trade winds, the water of the anchorage is pretty flat because the reef takes the sting out of the Atlantic rollers pummelling the coast.

It was a dramtic location with the trade winds smashing the Atlantic ocean on the reef sheltering the torquise blue shallows just ahead of us, on which kite boarders and hydrofoiling sail borders performed impressive water- born and air-born displays. The kite boarders in particular performed amazing stunts, sometimes rising 20 feet or more above the surface of the sea. 

The anchorage was pretty crowded with lots of mooring bouys scattered around which made it very difficult to find somewhere to anchor. A local 'boat boy' - Esco, came to greet us and tried to persuade me to take a mooring, but quite apart from the cost, unless one is prepared to dive down 5+ metres to inspect the mooring, there's no way of knowing if it's secure. I much preferred to rely on my anchor. After two failed attempts to pick a spot with enough room to swing, Esco realised I was serious about anchoring and guided me to a spot just inside the reef. It's customary to pay the boat boys for their help but we had no cash and so I asked him to drop buy in the morning and in response to him asking if  we needed water, said we'd decide then too. The price was 50 EC Dollars per litre (about 17p) plus I'd need to pay him for ferrying it out.

After a spot of lunch we took the dinghy ashore and had a look around the town, which once again was one that had seen better days.

We were greeted at the dinghy dock by a group of youngsters who showed us to the bank and then asked for "a tip". They were a bit put out when we explained we only had notes! 

 Being a Sunday it was pretty quiet.

First stop was the bank/cash point to get some much needed cash and then a beer.

After that we bought a few vegetables at one of only two market stalls that were open and then headed for the supermarket to buy a few essentials, including a bottle of Rum. Disaster struck at the check-out - the Rum bottle broke as Mick packed in his Rucksack. There must have been a flaw in the glass bottle but the youngster serving was so distressed with Rum running all over her counter that we didn't have the gumption to insist on a replacement. Eventually, after much indecision including consideration of whether to strain the remaining liquid before consuming it, we bought another bottle!

Back on the boat we had dinner followed by a disturbed night's sleep on account of the trade wind howling through the anchorage and the boat's rigging. So the next morning we decided to head for the anchorage on the leeward side of the island - Chatham Bay.

For me, given Chatham, England, is my home port, just the name Chatham Bay was enough to entice me there.

I've tried to find some information about the link between Chatham and Chatham Bay, but so far without success. I did though find out that some years ago, the St V & G government fought a major legal battle to 'reclaim' the area of Chatham Bay from a USA developer who had contrived to buy it from a previous Administration for a song in a corrupt land deal. See the link below...

https://www.searchlight.vc/editorial/2013/11/22/chatham-bay-our-patrimony-restored/

Of course, in addition to its intriguing name, the hills surrounding Chatham Bay to windward were sure to provide excellent shelter from the strong trade winds blowing across the island.

I couldn't have been more wrong! Rather than providing a barrier to the wind, the hills funnelled it down into the bay in erratic howling gusts from constantly changing directions, causing the anchored boats to veer constantly and unpredictably around their anchors. This required us to anchor a good distance from our neighbours because they were often being blown in completely different directions from Bonny. 

Indeed, this lead to a very close encounter on our last full day in the bay. I was ashore checking out, but fortunately Mick had remained behind on the boat. Our nearest neighbour, apparently a safe distance from us decided to leave and in the course of weighing anchor, to Mick's horror, was suddenly bearing down on Bonny at some speed. Apparently it took the combined forces of Mick, the Dad and his two daughters to fend the boats off from one another and avoid any damage to either one. 

It transpired that in response to the warnings about gusty winds, our neighbour had over indulged his precautionary tendancies and had let out 60 metres of chain in a depth only 5 metres. 

Unbeknown to us, as a consequence, his chain snaked over a very large expanse of the bottom including the area over which Bonny was often floating. The result of his enthusiastic realing-in of his anchor chain combined with a well timed gust of wind, then sent his boat careering towards Bonny!

Anyway, before all that happened, we spent our first night in windy Chatham Bay. The next morning after yet another poor night's sleep, I suggested we move once again, this time to the anchorage at Frigate Island. 

Before doing so I took a quick early morning trip ashore to pick up some more provisions including frozen burgers and pork chops. A further tactical error on my part - not going to the cashpoint first - meant I had to chose between getting the cash and letting the frozen food thaw, or departing the shore almost penniless once again. I chose the latter.

Shortly after getting back to the boat, Esco showed up. I confirmed we would get water and handed him our two 20 litre water containers. I understood him to say he would fill those and his own 30 litre container. He reappeared an hour later with a pal and a very large water butt - it was 30 gallons not 30 litres! Somehow he and his pal managed to get it up on Bonny's side deck and from there it was a straightforward matter to syphon the contents in our water tank.

Mick had an important conference call to join that afternoon at 1500 so we left shortly afterwards at around 1100. The short trip required a beat to windward in a fresh breeze with a reef in the main and genoa, but we made good progress and entered the anchorage at about 1230.

The trouble was it turned out to be even worse than Chatham Bay! There was very little room to anchor, the south east wind pushed an uncomfortable swell into the anchorage and it was just as gusty! 

After a quick conflab we decided to go back to Chatham Bay. With the wind behind us we were back in 30 minutes and managed to find a slightly more sheltered position than the one we had left.

Mick made his conference call and I went snorkeling on a nearby reef with dramatic underwater scenary of rocky hills and valleys with many different types of living coral. 

Mick had another important conference call the next day and so I went ashore in the morning and walked the length of the island - about 3 miles - to check out at Customs and Immigration at Clifton for departure the next day. Guided by a local I climbed the forrested hill behind the bay until reaching the road. Thankfully it was a fairly cloudy day and so I was spared the full glare of the Carribbean sun. Nonetheless I sweated buckets during the one and a half hour hike into Clifton.

On the outskirts of town I came across the island's combined Solar power and battery plant...

First stop was the bank/cash point (again) and then to Customs and Immigration. Here I hit a snag. The official crew list we departed Barbados with included Rayelle and Elliot. It was the one we provided to Immigration and Customs at Bequia and the one we left Bequia with. The trouble is of course, Rayelle and Elliot were no longer with us. So, when I presented the document and my and Mick's passports to Customs and Immigration at Clifton in order to check out, they asked me where the other two passports were. Those two left Bequia seperately I said in all innocence. "Do you have proof of that; when, on what date, how?" they asked. At this point I started to feel rather nervous. I was still a bit done in from my hike across the island and wasn't expecting 'the Spanish Inquisition' on suspicion of people smuggling; for the life of me couldn't remember the dates - Christ I thought I don't even know which month it was! 

Slowly my mind started to get to grips with the matter...we left Barbados the day after Sharon left for home, that was the 17th, "the 17th" I blurted out. The Immigration guy got on the phone to someone and held a lengthy conversation. Shit I suddenly thought, that wasn't when they left Bequia, that was 2 days later on the 19th. I was reluctant to interrupt his conversation and so kept quiet until the Customs lady returned and told her. Can you get their flight itinerary she asked? Hmm, maybe. So I rang Rayelle. She was in the car, but pulled over and searched her phone. 

While she was doing so, I pointed at the passport numbers on the form and asked "why don't you just check your system to find out when they left the country?" She looked at me blankly. The penny dropped - no system! The only record these guys had was the bit of paper i gave them with an official stamp on it which said there were 4 crew on board not 2, therefore there were 4 people in the country unless I could prove otherwise. By now I was feeling decidely queasy and started imagining what the prison cells on Union island looked like and how Mick would react when the local gun boat roared up alongside. "Hang on Tom, I've found something I'll send it to you but if you need more details I'll have to get on my computer at home.

Fortunately the Customs lady seemed quite happy with this...

She amended and stamped the crew list. The passports were returned and I was free to go.

Phew! I apologised profusely for causing so much trouble and got out before they changed their minds.

After that brush with the authorities I needed a beer and repaired to a local bar to consider my itinerary for the rest of the day.

It was about 1100, too early for lunch. I checked the map. Walking back via Ashton looked a good route and I could lunch there and pick up the few supplies we needed and so after my beer I headed off.

Along the road between the two towns was the island's Police Station...

Further on a Church...

With the magroves/nature reserve opposite...

A little later just before I took the following photo looking across mangroves, I passed a path going off into the nature reserve but didn't realise that's what it was!

It was only after we got to Carriacou and I started looking for information about the history of Chatham Bay, that I discovered that I had walked past the island's 'must see' sight. A nature reserve constructed on the remains of a defunct marina project.

These guys found it... (FF to 6.5 minutes)

Dam!

https://youtu.be/Uv-TbQBlHyI?si=8otYS-0Jc0tc2Gfj

Soon I was in Ashton and passed the school...

By now I was quite hungry. A few yards past the school was a little shack restaurant with a few locals and some kids. The proprietor called out and so I went in and had an excellent good value rice and peas and chicken lunch and a couple of beers. Her 7 year old Granddaughter was there having lunch and turned out to be quite a chatterbox!

We both had four children 3 boys and a girl but I beat her 7-4 on the Grandchildren tally!

After lunch I did a little shopping and headed up the hill for Chatham Bay. I missed the turning but thankfully was put back on course by a helpfu local.

The view over Ashford

I found the path from the road to Chatham Bay without too much difficulty and was back on the beach by 1345. Just enough time for a beer at one of the beach bars before Mick arrived to pick me up.

We returned later for an excellent and very reasonably priced Red Snapper dinner.

The view across Chatham Bay from the restaurant that evening....

Bonny is the boat at far left

The next day we intended to head for Carriacou or Grenada.

For more information about about Union Island from a local perspective follow the link...

https://youtu.be/top1EuH1e0k?si=RWqX4b6zYUncSfWh

Mayreau: Bats, Bananas, Lobsters, Teacher Annie & French hosts

After our shortest sail of the trip so far - less than two hours - we arrived at Salt Whistle Bay, Mayreau, from the Tabago Quays at around midday on Saturday 3rd February.

My sailing pal John (the famous "Old Man Sailing") recommended the bay to us after his cruise around these parts last year. "Hardly anyone goes there and the beach is lined with Rum bars, a great place for a bar crawl, my favourite is "Last Bar before the Jungle"!

John is the youngest old man I know - I guess rum must be one of his not so secret ingredients!

It seems a year can make a big difference. The quiet bay that John found, was jammed with mostly chartered French catermarans when we got there and by the time we left the following morning, there were even more. It is though a beautiful spot with a lovely beach and yes, lots of rum bars. Quite how they all made a living though is a bit of a mystery. As soon as our anchor was down, a local guy paddled alongside us in his canoe. Ricardo persuaded us to have a lobster dinner that night at his beach bar/restaurant. Later we found that despite the bay being crammed crammed with boats there were precious few crews eating or drinking ashore. 

Before we could buy dinner though we needed to get some cash. I had foolishly arrived with an empty wallet and Mick had just enough for a meal. So after a quick lunch we wend ashore to find a cash point. Then we discovered there were none on the (small) island. However, Ricardo said we should be able to get cash at the supermarket up in the village. 

As it turned out he was wrong! On our way to the supermarket we stopped off for a beer at a restaurant run by one of the island's eight teachers (the population is only 450) - Teacher Annie. We had a long wide ranging conversation with her including topics such as the history and ownership of the island (it's owned by a family of wealthy cousins but they have sold of plots over the years which are now owned by local people) the political scene (the same government of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines has been in power for 15 years). We asked how the boundary between Grenada, which includes Carriacou, the island to its north and St Vincent and the Grenadines was established and learnt that the southern territorial limit of the latter was established by firing a canon ball north from the northern point of Carriacou - now named "Gun Point" - it's landing point determined that the northern extremity of Grenada's territorial waters.....

I'm glad I wasn't the one in the boat required to stand by and mark the splashdown - it must have been quite a risky undertaking!

On our return to Salt Whistle Bay we explained our failure to get any local cash to Ricardo. Initially he was a little glum but brightened up when I said we did have some Stirling and said he was quite happy to accept that. So we had our lobster dinner after all.

Here it is before....

and after...

After a good feed we stopped off for drinks with a couple of French guys who we had first bumped into at the dinghy dock on Canouan and then again in the small supermarket here on Mayreau. They were sailing a very modern racy looking boat...

Of course another very convivial evening was had. They were leaving for Tabago Cays the next day and we were heading for Union Island. We both planned on getting to Grenada and so we'll probably see them again.

That night we had nocturnal visitors - Bats. Apparently in Mustique they are notorious for earing ones bananas and whilst they did visit there our bananas remained intact. On this occasion however, virtually a whole banana was consumed by the little blighters....

The skin was all that was left!

It was a little unnerving to see them flying in and out of the boat whilst trying to settle down to sleep. They are extremely agile and were able to fly through the companionway entrance, circle the cabin and fly out again without coming to mishap.

Alas, our lack of funds meant we departed Salt Whistle Bay without undertaking the recommended Rum Bar crawl. Perhaps just as well. 

Next stop Clifton on Union Island.