Island hopping.
White Island, Carriacou.
The Grenadines are a group of small islands in the Lesser Antilles scattered between the two larger islands of St Vincent to the north, and Grenada to the south. Grenada controls the southern third, while St Vincent is in charge of the northern two thirds, comprising 32 islands and cays. Some are private and off limits, while some are open to the public, under strict regulations. Some are a combination, Canouan for example has a private enclave to the north and south of the island, with a small settlement of local people smack dab in the middle.
By Alison DeGraff - sourced from Wikepedia
My faithful reader (yes you) will recognize some of the names already. We checked in to Grenada on the island of Carriacou just before Christmas and then sailed south, past Isle de Ronde to Grenada itself for the holiday season. Once the New Year celebrations were complete we began our journey back up through the islands. Our first stop was to return to Carriacou. Here we enjoyed a few days of intermittent squally weather, the rainbows making up for the rain-showers. We snorkeled the reefs to the south of Carriacou, White Island and Saline Island, then spent the night all by ourselves off Frigate Island. The next morning the enormous 88m/288ft long sailing vessel Maltese Falcon showed up and anchored nearby. We spent an entertaining morning looking through the binoculars to see how the other half lived: their trip to the same snorkel sites we had visited the previous day, the “toys” they had onboard and the lobster lunch on the back deck. It turns out the ships officers were in turn checking us out, discussing how Helacious is a boat that can cruise anywhere. When we heard that later from one of their crew while waiting at customs, it made Captain Brian very proud.
Maltese Falcon, it could be yours for $490,000 a week (plus expenses and tips).
It was then time to check out of Grenada, and move north. We arrived at the office at 9am (they are meant to open from 9-12 but we did not see an official until at least 9.30am). At the time of our arrival, there were already 4 groups of cruisers in line ahead of us. We had heard unpleasant stories from our friends of the delay tactics used to gain more money from cruisers if you checked out in the afternoon. They would stall and delay their work until about 3.30pm, then proceed to charge overtime for the folk that had been forced to wait as soon as 4pm rolled around. We therefore decided a morning attempt would be better. As it turned out, they still appeared to stall. We finally were checked out by 11.30. A number of people had left in frustration.
Charlestown, the only town on Canouan.
The crossing from the island of Carriacou to Canouan took us from Grenada to St Vincent. We picked Canouan to check in even though it was not necessarily the closest island with a customs office, as Union Island and the town of Clifton, had rather a bad rap. Stories abounded of sailors being harassed by “boat boys” and disgruntled locals untying your boat or stealing outboards in retribution. Of course these stories are always to be taken with a big pinch of salt, but when sailing about 10 miles further results in a different island and a different vibe…. why not go for it. We arrived in Canouan soaked! The crossing was much rougher than we had anticipated, 25-30kt of wind, hard on the nose. We had gotten complacent and lazy, not fully securing the boat for the short hop to another island. The waves in the passage between islands were quite large and we had a lot of water over the deck. Some of this water also found its way below decks via the ventialltion dorades which we had failed to close before we left. For the first time ever our bed got soaked! First order of the day was to wash sheets and dry out the mattress before we could go to bed.
The next morning we met up with the crew of Skylark, friends from the Salty Dawg rally of 2020. With Tim and Diane we climbed the hill over to the eastern side of the island to check out the long reef that protected the beach on the windward side. We explored another abandoned building, so often seen on these islands. Someones dream only to fall to ruin in the harsh environment. The long beach protected by the reef was all ours.
After a dip in the water we headed back to our boats, but got caught in a heavy rainshower. As we walked up the road these Red-footed tortoises emerged from the undergrowth and headed straight for the drainage channel for a drink of fresh water.
Canouan has two private and gated enclaves, one to the north, the other to the south. The small settlement of Charlestown is in the middle. The gated communities have desalination plants to provide fresh water. The community does not. It predominantly relies on cisterns and captured rainwater. The ground is sterile and rocky. Nothing but weeds will grow. All the food is brought in by boat, so the week we were here our supplies dwindled significantly. We never found the grocery store, but the small stall selling vegetables by the ferry dock had the best tomatoes so far in the Caribbean and we bought some lobster from a local fisherman. The disparity between the haves and have-nots has never been so obvious as it was here.
We had more friends we wanted to rendezvous with, so after enjoying Canouan we headed south to the Tobago Cays. We had heard many wonderful things about these small islands: the crystal clear water, great snorkeling and sandy beaches with palm trees. It sounded idyllic. The reality fell a little short. If there is one thing we have learned over the past few years it is that one man’s paradise is another mans purgatory. We like to get away from the crowds, avoid the lobster barbeque on the beach with 50 strangers, buzzing by kite surfers and instead discover the reefs and turtles by ourselves. Here there was an area roped off to swim with turtles (we saw one lonely fellow). The anchorage was so rough it was almost impossible to get back on the boat from the dinghy without knocking ourselves out, and the mooring on the sheltered side was along a reef that the locals were hunting for lobster. This was all in the protected “marine park”, costing $45 a night. After an afternoon visiting, we left and went to nearby Mayreau, anchored at a lovely spot with 2 other boats for $0, and waited for our friends.
The view of Union Island from our Mayreau anchorage.
While waiting for the group to arrive, Brian took a dive into the engine room to try and understand our recent, and rather worrying few episodes of the engine not starting on cue. Although we are a sailboat, and totally prefer to use wind power to diesel, there are times when the engine is essential- In close quarters, anchoring and leaving an anchorage. We rely on the engine to keep us safe. Recently there had been a few times when the engine would not start. It was resolved in these occasions by Brian rapping smartly on the starter motor with a hammer. But this was clearly not a long term solution.
Nothing has been fully resolved at the time of writing, however we do have a spare starter motor in ship supplies which we plan to install when we are in a marina with support services available. For now the hammer will have to suffice.
Mayreau Villas resort
Mayreau is the smallest inhabited island of the Grenadines. The lovely resort is run by a Swedish couple who welcome cruisers to enjoy their facilities. We spent a few days there, putting up with the rather rolly anchorage to take advantage of the fine restaurant and pool with a view.
A morning of exploring was all that was needed to check out the town and view from the peak over toward the Tobago Cays. We met some interesting folk on our walk, one finely dressed gentleman was on his way home having played his ukelele in church that morning. Another, Righteous Bob, insisted on giving us a tour of his restaurant/bar. All design and decor done by himself, over 20 years in the making.
The days seem to slip by. We head north, stopping for a few more days in Canouan. We give a local spear-fisherman a ride back to the dock. He had not expected the current to be so strong and was tired after fishing out on the reef. The sunsets put on their show and we do a few chores, one of which was to give our flag a makeover. It has a few months of life in it.
We had visited Bequia the previous year. It is a lovely island; a relaxed vibe but developed enough to provide entertainment options. Either Happy hour gatherings, good hikes or just choices for provisioning. We anchored at the back of the pack in Admiralty Bay, just off the Lower Bay beach and spent our time just chilling. The weather was weird, very strong winds, rain-showers all week and a swell that would not give up. We rocked and rolled along with BeBe and Pathfinder for over a week. While we had the sewing machine out we helped Dana on Pathfinder fix the luff tape on his genoa. The hardest part was hauling the heavy machine over to his boat without it getting wet.
We enjoyed hikes, visiting the windward side of the island, Friendship and Hope Bays, as well as just around town. The daily activities of laundry or replacing a tire are so different to how it is done at home. The variation of architectural styles, some quite excessively ornate, is fascinating., and of course the local flora and fauna.
We scored some used sailcloth at the local sailmakers. This will be transformed into new shopping bags, once I get the sewing machine out again.
We sailed north from Bequai to St Vincent to pick up our guests for the following week. Justine and Philip escaping the winter in Glasgow, were looking forward to a little beach time in the Caribbean. Of course the first thing we do is go hiking. Soufriere volcano in the north of St Vincent was last active just 3 years ago, December 2020 to April 2021. Our guide, Paul, picked us and Milly, an Australian medical student, up and drove around the east coast of the island to the trailhead. From here the climb to the rim of the volcano was about 2,000 ft, reaching a final altitude of 3,200ft.
The hike began in verdant forest; tree ferns, wild begonia and orchids helped us enjoy the steep and steamy climb up. Once above the tree line the trail, which had been mostly well maintained steps, became treacherous with loose pumice stones. The final push to the crater rim was steep and the mist swirled over our heads.
We reached the rim of the caldera and the clouds lifted. We had a great view into the crater, the sulfurous steam rising from vents in the center.
The following day we explored Kingstown, the capital of St Vincent. The central market, the busy dock area and the quieter back streets with a beautiful Anglican church. The botanical garden, the oldest in the western hemisphere, established in 1765 was pleasant and cool to walk around.
The following day we left St Vincent and had a great sail 18 miles south to Mustique. This private island, famed as a get-away for the rich and famous, is just south east of St Vincent. There are strict rules for visitors to the island. There is no anchoring, a permit for 3 day visit and a mooring ball can be purchased. We were able to go ashore, however only in a well defined area. The few shops near the dock, the famous Basil’s Bar and a beach stretching south down to the lagoon. In all, probably only about 1 square mile. That was fine, we enjoyed sundowners at Basil’s and listening to the music coming from the bar in the evening as part of the Mustique Blues festival.
During the walk along the beach we spotted some mansions scattered around the hillsides. We encountered tortoises, emerging in the late afternoon for a feast on flowers. The sea turtles in the anchorage were quite unafraid and we snorkeled along watching them graze on the sea grass. It was a lovely couple of days.
And then we left, sailing downwind back to Bequia. Brian fished hard with a new rig that he and Phil had constructed. No luck, though. We anchored again off Lower Bay and enjoyed some beach time as well as a great hike to the northernmost tip of the island. We bought some scrimshaw made by Cliff and had a lovely meal out at the elegant FireFly Estate.
Justine and Philip’s last night onboard Helacious was maybe more exciting than they had bargained for. Just after we had all turned in for the night we were woken with a bump. An unattended boat upwind of us had broken from its mooring and was floating out to sea. Luckily (for him) it snagged its dinghy davit line on our bow pulpit and was held fast. Our anchor, with the sudden weight of two boats, began to drag. Fortunately within about 50 feet it reset and both boats held fast. We put out a “securite” alert over channel 16 and shortly after the coastguard came on the radio and quickly mobilized to come to our aid. They towed the boat to a new mooring. The only damage from the whole incident was a scuffed rub-rail on Helacious- and our grill was torn from its bracket as the boat was towed away. It took a dive in the water. We are hoping a replacement is forthcoming as a gesture of gratitude for saving someones floating home.
And just like that 6 weeks had passed. We tidied the boat up and pointed our bow north. Time to get some French cheese.