Boom, Crash & Tropical Spice

St George's with Fort George in the distance
(That is not our maxi taxi - way too modern!)

Of all the Caribbean islands, Grenada seemed to be THE magnet for cruisers of every persuasion.  Bays and coves were crammed with boats, some unoccupied and some storm or hurricane tragedies.  Here too, it was apparent that the boat-de-jour is indeed a catamaran.  And a very large one at that.  Fair enough!  We’ve met many who live-aboard full time this year.  Cruisers are not so much old retired codgers like the Cap’n & GS anymore, but young couples and families.  Whatever the reason for taking up an appealing life under sail, there sure is plenty of floating homes with all the mod cons.  So, where to anchor amid the mayhem?  We tried Prickly Bay (lance-a-peen) on the south coast but moved on to Clarke Courts Bay (or Woburn Bay) where we snagged a nicely protected anchorage off Saba Cove.  From there, we were sheltered, away from popular spots and easily able to explore options for our day-to-day needs.  But first the basics – very cold beer and food!  Marina restaurant.  Tick – done… 

We anchored tucked well into comfortable Saba Cove. (Hog Island, right side on map).  Most prefer the better protected anchorage & its beach bar (Hog Island, left side on map).  Hog Island is connected to the mainland by a small bridge and you can see the marina & boatyard (top left).  Not to mention the vast numbers of sailboats at anchor.

This photo is taken from the hills to the north of the Island so the views are reversed! Either way, it was far busier than we saw it in 2008.

The Shade-Man, out of a nearby marina, ran a maxi taxi service to town twice a week allowing us to pick up yet more boat bits & groceries, enough to fill very empty food lockers.  One run to Grand Anse, full of resorts, long sweeping sandy beaches & the flattest part of the island, took us to a vast hardware (that sold Moet… Woohoo! Come on Bunnings, get with the program!!).  Next stops were a chandlery, a nice coffee shop and an impressive IGA.  The second run took us into St George’s to explore the fresh food markets.  We drove through a maze of narrow, steep streets, most lined with old colonial buildings, then zoomed through the historic Sendel Tunnel at the foot of Fort George, to arrive at the bustling CBD taxi stand and lively market areas.  Freshly caught fish (by someone else) for dinner then boys?  You bet!  Kingfish and salmon no less.  

St George’s is a picturesque harbour made up of two inner bays.  The Carenage is the business side, and a flat, calm Lagoon, dubbed the “Frying Pan”, the yachties side.  We anchored in the Pan in 2008, using the nearby Yacht Club as a base.  Well, times have changed; no anchoring now!  It’s filled to the brim with a large marina, developed with an eye to attract all those superyachts and their cashed-up owners and crews.  Even on the eve of Carnival, there was none to be seen.  Docks were lined with your average cruiser, not to mention all those fat cats. Do you think we should upgrade, mused the Cap’n whilst juggling loads of spare parts, brass fittings, paint tins and other essentials in hand.  GS did not answer, only glared.

Back in Woburn, we found Taffy’s Restaurant; sadly, not on a day when they serve a wholesome traditional Sunday Roast.  At least they were open on a public holiday when our cupboard was bare.  We had a relaxing lunch and a few hours heads down to use their wi-fi.  We certainly felt starved of any connection to the wider world.  At that happy moment, GS’s computer chose to die, in a most spectacular way.  Back on board, Mr Lozza threw it into the (empty) sink, hoping the battery was not about to burst into flame.  (It didn’t!)

Grenada appears be a photo desert for now.  Hopefully more to follow...

Slipping through the Southern Grenadines

Up until now we thought that sailboat numbers were down a bit; it is hurricane season after all.  Cruisers were certainly squeezing into Bequia’s small harbour, but turnover was fairly quick.  Most were moving on to their favourite hurricane haunts to wait out nasty weather.  Charterers though, were out in force for some late season bargains.  At one point, we were surrounded by five 60’ catamarans.  Now that’s some chunk of boat-ware – shades of the BVI.  We wondered what it would be like in peak season.  We were to find out later in Grenada.

Heading off from Mayreau for the Regatta 

Again, it was time for us to move on.  We bid farewell to Didi and promised to be back next year for another relaxing stay on this welcoming island.  We had also heard of a large Regatta to be held in Carriacou, Aug 4-7th and we hoped to see the spectacle.  Many of the islands, including Bequia, were sending small workboats and young crews to participate in what is described as the oldest Regatta event in the West Indies.

Rainbow over the Caribbean Sea

Bypassing exotic Mustique, once secluded home to the celebrated Royal, Princess Margaret, (along with other Celebs), we made for Mayreau, gateway to Tobago Cays Marine Park.  Salt Whistle Bay is a photographers dream and we hoped to squeeze in.  It is full of moorings now and clearly preference is given to charterers and their cats.  More importantly though, we could see a storm out at sea heading our way and knew this bay would be too exposed.  It was already starting to rock.  The decision to move further south to Saline Bay and anchor (being the last of the not-so-big spenders) made this a rather attractive option.  Saline proved to be quiet with a nice beach and offered some reasonable snorkelling - except when the local ferries rolled by.

When the weather improved, we tried our luck with a quick “drive” through the Tobago cays.  The seas were still up following the storm with large waves crashing over the outer horse-shoe reef, where all the snorkelling action is – of course.  So, we pushed on through and once out of the reef set a course between Palm and Union Islands, took a quick drift by the famous Mopion Island (a tiny circular sand cay) before checking out Petite Martinique as a possible anchorage.  In the end, we were so close to Carriacou, and as the sun was still shining and a nice breeze pushing WJ3 along, it made sense to keep going.  These islands make up a beautiful and easy cruising ground; it felt such a reward after all our challenges to date. 

View over Union Island, Carriacou (middle distance) and Grenada (beyond)

Tobago Cays. Nothing between you and the Atlantic except for a slender reef

The much romanticised Mopion Island

Tyrell Bay is one of those “safe” all-weather harbours.  It was certainly busier and more developed since our last visit.  The Cap’n drove us through the anchorage checking out suitable options, before settling beside the not-so-young starkers family (yes, more Frenchies).  The Cap’n & his Motley Crew still have nightmares.  Fortunately, GS discovered that Grenada was celebrating Carnival in the next week.  With few regrets, the anchor was raised (much too slowly by the boys!!) and we set sail via the appropriately named Kick-‘em-Jenny.  Dangerous to ships and boats, this active underwater volcano is said to occasionally belch large bubbles of gas.  It was last on Orange Alert in 2018 when we crossed from the Med.  Thankfully, we missed any action then and now, and settled safely in Clarke Courts Bay, Grenada without incident.  

Blessings in Bequia

Sun and spectacular sunsets too!  But no green flash... or was that a 80's thing?

We finally found the SUN in Bequia!  Things were looking up!  Our trusty Cap’n headed off to complete checking-in formalities with immigration/customs.  (This has to be done at every island where we stop!  Apparently at times it really tests his UN-learned diplomacy skills…).  As luck would have it, our Cap’n met up with Didi on “Blessing” at the dinghy dock.  She manages a mooring field just off the picturesque Plantation Hotel.  Best of all, there was a mooring available and we could stay 7 days.  We quickly left the swell of Lower Beach behind for this fantastic spot tucked nicely up in Admiralty Bay.  We must be going soft in our dotage?

White sandy beach near the Plantation Hotel.
Next time, GS is going to stay there a week!!

The weather held and with relish, we explored the tiny town, ate at cute coffee shops, tried the pizza and found a nice bar or three for evening drinks.  The town market had an array of beautiful fresh fruits and vegies, most brought over daily by fast ferry from St Vincent.  Best of all, there was a beautiful blue swimming pool at the back of our boat.  We used it every day.  Although the sighting of a coral sea snake lurking in the seaweed under our boat did cause a few moments of panic.  The lads also took the opportunity to snorkel nearby coral reefs, spotting baby lobsters, colourful fish and a troupe of divers exploring the depths below. 

Cute old timber shingle house

Bequia has a history of traditional boat building and in the early years, a whaling industry.  However, skills needed to continue this tradition have diminished with time.  We were saddened to hear that Withfield, who skilfully make our sturdy custom dodger and awnings in 2008 has since passed.  Daffodil, a floating barge laden with fuel and water (they take laundry too!) is still in operation.  We cannot understand how this brilliant concept has not become popular across the Caribbean.  In Georgetown, Bahamas, we had to line up at the petrol station with jerry cans, lug them to the dinghy dock, transport them back to the boat and then siphon the contents, can by can, into WJ3’s tank until full.  Repeat this performance for fresh water.  In March, there were hundreds of boats in Georgetown.  Well, enough moaning.  It must be time for another swim.  

Lovely clear water off a dinghy dock with WJ3
(look for her under the beige awning, in between the big cats)

View over Admiralty Bay as the sun goes down. 
Farewell to Bequia dinner at an upstairs restaurant in town near the dock.

Know Egrets

OK, so where is everybody?  Oh, it's Carnival today!  Really?
And we're stuck in Rodney Bay on anchor...

We arrived, with great expectations, in Rodney Bay only to find it was a public holiday and the marina closed.  It was Carnival time, a multi-day, serious party event, so we were told.  The only one working, and acknowledged our arrival, was the floating rubbish collector and seller of “interesting” objects, pineapples, bananas and maybe something to smoke if you felt uptight.  Boat boys have certainly come a long way since 2008!   

Marina life has its challenges...

The next day we moved into the vast Rodney Bay Marina and decided that we needed a week of down-time to recover from our voyage so far.  Besides, it was the The Ancient Mariner's Birthday. It was time to eat out and try some local food.  So, we chose a Thai restaurant…  Don’t be alarmed, the food had an exotic, creole, spicy spin.  The Cap’n was bereft though; no pie shops and lamb roasts still few and far between.  We did celebrate with ice-cream – our first since leaving home.  It lasted all of a minute before melting!  Life’s tough in the tropics…

Partying over, it was time to settle in for a few boat maintenance chores and with internet (of sorts) available onboard, time to catch up on our past patchy communications.  Mr Lozza, inspired by his bottom cleaning experience (actually, WJ3’s bottom) in Les Saintes, must have decided WJ3’s sides needed a good scrub too.  GS found him wedged between the dock & WJ3 with quite a few nasty boat-bites.  Both he and the Cap’n had to have a few shots of duty-free scotch (Black Label to go with the mood!) to recover.  Well, that’s their excuse…

Of course, there's always chores

As we had had little luck to date trawling our Kiwi lure (see, we told you we were hopeless, Kiwi!!) both lads ventured off on an organised coastal fishing trip.  World records were not set (definitely), and any tiddly survivors released to grow - a lot.  Later, over a prawn pizza (oh, the irony) we shared with Marie, fishing stories and other tall yarns were discussed at length.  Marie, from Perth (WA), and a permanent liveaboard and now kitten minder, lives on her well set up catamaran in the marina.  It was nice to talk “strine” and share a laugh.

This one is for you John D.  See what you are missing out on!
Found in St Lucia. A favourite Med tipple for some of the crew!!

By now, it was well into July and tropical depressions were starting to sweep steadily across the Atlantic bringing even more wind, rain and storms.  We decided to delay our crossing to Bequia, in St Vincent & Grenadines, to avoid one that promised lots of flooding rains & winds of 30+ knots.  

Sailing the easier Windwards at last.  Early departure from Rodney Bay.

Err!  Excuse me.  Just who is driving the boat today??

No time to put our nose into Marigot Bay,
so a glide by the Pitons will have to do.

In the calm that followed, we set off in choppy seas, coasted in the lee of St Vincent and then made a dash for Bequia (said beck way) and arrived, 80 miles (11 hours) later, in the late afternoon to a swelly anchorage off Lower Beach.  Even so, it was good to be back to this tiny and very friendly island.  

(In case you are wondering, the post title was the name of a sailboat in the marina.  We’re now into serious Caribbean style boat-naming territory!)

Still Rockin’ Along

Bidding Guadeloupe, hiding its volcano
under a blanket of clouds, a fond farewell 

Finally, we checked out of Guadeloupe and set sail (yes, we really do sail sometimes!) for a pleasant day’s run, down island to Dominica.  We had the lure out, but were short on both luck and fish fingers.  Dominica is very steep and very deep; its main activities are adventure tourism – hiking up volcanoes through tropical rainforest or diving off steep sea walls.  All a bit active for us.  We were met in Roseau by Marcus and took one of his moorings located only about 40 feet from shore, but with 110 feet of water under the keel.  (Sorry guys, you have to do the math!  We’ve got an American made boat – but take it from GS, 1 metre is a tinsy bit over 3 feet.  Right?).  Aside from local chickens, roosters, dogs, goats and traffic noise, we slept very well overnight in calm, calm waters.  It was like being in the Caribbean - at last!

Colourful Dominica

Early next day, we made the crossing to Martinique.  The sail was rather sloppier than we cared for but once in the lee of Mount Pelée, with the sun shining and a joyous welcoming committee of acrobatic dolphins, we cruised leisurely down the coast.  We bypassed Saint-Pierre, very prettily dressed in beautiful green fields, but with something of a death wish.  Founded in 1635, it has twice since suffered total destruction.  In 1780, a 25ft (8m) tidal surge caused by a hurricane killed 9,000.   Then, in 1902, the town was victim of an overwhelming eruption of nearby volcanic Mount Pelée.  Only two people survived.

Going gang-busters in the chop between islands
(Oh, that's not us!) 

All this sad news clearly affected our most comfortable steering chair.  With the Cap’n below decks and GS & Mr Lozza madly cheering the dolphin gymnastic team, nobody noticed said chair’s bid for freedom.  To make matters worse, its best buddy also tried to escape.  Unbelievable in such calm waters!!  Luckily though, chair #2 did not succeed.  Our Cap’n promised faithfully to find it a friend at Island Water World (a large chandlery chain) when we docked in St Lucia. 

We were exhausted from all this chair over-board & rescue activity and with rain squalls closing in over Fort de France Bay, busy with ferries, shipping and other sailboats, we hurried on toward our next anchorage, Anse Mitan.  Although a coastal holiday town, we managed to find a quiet anchorage away from the mayhem.  This area is quite near the home of Joséphine de Beauharnais, first wife of Napoleon Bonaparte, now a museum.  A stopover in Martinique will be added to next year's float plan for sure.

But we didn't linger.  With interesting "weather conditions" this year, we decided to burn up the miles while we could.  We flashed past Diamond Rock, wondering how the British could ever have disguised it as a sailing ship (to keep the French at bay for 18 months in 1804). It is said to have been dressed with sails, cannons and a contingent of men. How they scaled its steep and rugged sides with all their gear makes this even more incredible.

Diamond Rock.  Photo link: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Diamant_Beach.jpg

Our destination was to be a rewarding stay in St Lucia’s Rodney Bay Marina.  This marina is home to the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC), where a gathering of more than 200 cruiser boats meets each Feb to celebrate a successful Atlantic crossing.  Also, the Round the World group depart for their Panama & Pacific leg.  We were trying not to be too regretful about our decision to stay in the States.