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.
The view over Ashford
Bonny is the boat at far left
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...
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!
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.
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....
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...
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