Log of Sea Wings

3 June 2009

Charlestown, Canouan Island

St Vincent and the Grenadines, WI

At Anchor

12 – 42.4731 N

61 – 19.7800 W

Soaring Beauty……

And a Cold Slap In The Face

We are currently anchored at Canouan Island about 35nm north of Grenada. Part of St Vincent and the Grenadines, it boasts sandy beaches, bays of crystal clear, shallow water and hills in lieu of mountains, the picture postcard image we all have of the Caribbean. Typical of the Grenadines, it is a big change from the islands in which we have spent the last several months; the French Islands of Guadeloupe and Martinique and the independent islands of Dominica, St Lucia, and St Vincent. These are islands of incredible beauty of a different sort, dark green mountain spires soaring skyward, rising from deep, dark blue water. These are the islands of rainforests, luscious fruits and vegetables, wild parrots and dramatic waterfalls.

For those cruising south, they are also the first islands where boat boys become a way of life, starting on Dominica. Boat ‘boy’ is a misnomer as most are well into their thirties or older. They are islanders who make their living providing goods and services to ‘yachties’ traveling the islands such as laundry, fruit and veggies, ice, fresh fish, etc. In some islands they also want to help you anchor, clean your boat, bring diesel or water and can be very pushy, even obnoxious as they pester you in their efforts to sell something. As we are rookies to cruising in this area, we anticipated the boat boys with a little apprehension. The image you get from reading about them or hearing stories from other cruisers is not unlike the homeless squirting water on your windshield and wiping it with newsprint and demanding payment as you wait at a stoplight.

Fortunately, our introduction to boat boy life was quite different than anticipated, and quite pleasant. As you head south from St Kitts, each independent island will have boat boys to greet you, sometimes two to three miles out from an anchorage, with a rousing “Welcome to paradise, Captain!!!”. (The French islands as departments of France are more affluent and boat boys do not exist there) Typical protocol is to accept the first one to your boat as ‘your’ boy and the others will leave you alone. We were advised to seek out Martin Carriere, hardly a boy as he is well into his forties. While Martin will provide most services at your request, his forte is his knowledge of the island, its flora and fauna and his efforts to change the image of Dominican boat boys from pushy salesmen to valued island guides. Probably the best known member of the Indian River Tour Guide Association, he has completed many natural history courses and is very knowledgeable about both agricultural and wild plants as well as their uses. He will take you on trips up the Indian River, a preservation area accessible only by rowed boats, to the rainforests, waterfalls, and agricultural farms or to the best snorkeling spots. Martin shared with us not only his great knowledge but his love for this beautiful island.

Availing ourselves of his services we traveled up the Indian River, hiked into the mountains to beautiful waterfalls, toured the rainforest with its huge trees and were introduced to farming as practiced on Dominica. While larger commercial farms do exist, most farming is done on 1-3 acre plots with no mechanized equipment to assist the labor. These plots line the narrow roads climbing through the mountains and are mostly banana but each plot typically has small amounts of pineapple, or mango, or breadfruit, or grapefruit, or coffee trees, etc. These plots are usually tended by one person with only a machete as a farm implement.

In order to assist these small farmers, the government has organized a cooperative to control the quality of the banana crops and market it to other countries. The farmer places a plastic bag around the young bananas he wishes to sell to the government and inspectors come to each field and mark the bags with different color ribbons depending on the ripeness of the fruit. They then announce over the radio which color ribbon is to be harvested on a given day and the farmer harvests and washes the fruit which is then picked up by government trucks to be taken for packaging and shipping. This system provides income directly to the farmers that would be impossible for them to realize as independent farmers. So if you are shopping at home and have the choice of Dole or some other big outfit or bananas labeled as Windward Island Cooperative or Product of Dominica, buy the latter and do some good for the farmers there.

The agricultural richness of the island and the adjacent deep blue waters also give a charm to the island that belies the deep poverty here. Portsmouth on the leeward west shore is the major destination for yachties here and is what would be considered third world to folks back in the US. It is a small, depressed waterfront town with shores littered with rusting shipwrecks from recent hurricanes. The recent downturn in the economy has made a bad employment situation even worse yet the people are friendly and outgoing and seem a happy lot despite what we would see as a depressing situation. Martin explained that it is in large part due to the fact that everyone knows that no matter how bad the financial problems become, they will always have an abundance of food and will never starve. Indeed, fruit trees are everywhere for the picking, fruit and vegetables are fresh, plentiful and cheap, and fresh fish arrives at the shore all day long.

Speaking of fish, it is some of the best eating in the Caribbean. Fishing is done from small boats (very small for the size of the waves they fish in) tending fish traps, netting or line fishing. This is all done very close to shore as in these volcanic islands the waters go to hundreds of feet deep within a mile off shore. The typical fish is red snapper, almost always served with everything attached save guts, fins and scales. Even in the more upscale French restaurants an order for passion grille will have a red snapper staring up at you. This fish can range from just OK to quite good but dealing with the bones takes a little getting used to.

But the best eating we have found is what we call ‘Machete Dorado’. This is a Dorado (Mahi Mahi back home) caught maybe a half mile off shore and rushed back to the beach where the fisherman sounds a conch horn and guts the fish as buyers gather around with their orders. He lays the whole fish out and you order by showing him how far down the fish you wish him to cut and he promptly whacks it off with his machete, weighs it and puts it into a plastic grocery bag for the trip back to your boat. It has never seen ice as it has only been out of the water for 30 minutes or so and this fresh it is some of the best eating you will ever have. And best, it is very inexpensive.

Stops at the French islands of Guadeloupe, Iles de Saintes, and Martinique are a different experience altogether. While still adorned with lush volcanic mountains…….Mt Pelee on Martinique is spectacular……they lack the poverty of the some independent islands, tend to be more cosmopolitan, have excellent infrastructure, good restaurants, stores and markets, fresh baguettes and, unfortunately, speak French exclusively. While these islands are charming and at times reminiscent more of Europe than the Caribbean, the language barrier soon becomes quite a burden and we find ourselves tiring of them quickly and glad to return to the independent or “EC” islands as they are known here.

It is even easier for us non French speaking Americans to travel in France as there the majority speak Anglais as well. Not so in the French islands. Add to this the fact that all signage, books, magazines, menus, etc are in French. Worst of all they trade almost exclusively with homeland France so nearly all food stuffs are packaged in French labeling……..that is what it is and what is in it. We spent tons of time trying to differentiate cream cheese (like Philly) from all the other packaged soft cheeses and butter. So after a while having fresh, hot baguettes every day no longer overcomes the language problems and you move on to another island.

But in spite of the ‘French’ problem, we found these islands delightful. They are larger islands with lots to see and we rented cars and toured each one, enjoying the same mountains and waterfalls and the rum distilleries as well! One town that we found particularly interesting was St Pierre on the west coast of Martinique. It lies on the lower slopes of majestic Mr Pelee giving the small town a dramatic backdrop. It is also the volcano that leveled the city and killed its 30,000 inhabitants in 1902. It was called the Paris of the Caribbean and known for its bustling trade, sophisticated infrastructure, theater and botanical gardens. The eruption flattened the city and sank12 ships in the harbor leaving only two people alive.

As the bulk of the damage was caused by superheated gas and fire, the remains of streets, gutters, foundations and some standing walls were salvaged and as the town has slowly been rebuilt you can still find these remains throughout the newer buildings and the street and gutter system is still the original from the turn of the century. It was an enjoyable place to explore and the beauty of the terrible mountain behind provides a constant reminder of the power of nature. There were still eruptions of Pelee into the 1930’s and the island of Montserrat is still erupting today.

The sailing has been great in the Windward Islands and we find ourselves mostly using the engine for battery charging and making water, not for getting from place to place. Each trip seems much the same as the islands are mostly 25 to 40 nm apart. You sail in the lee of the island you are leaving with light winds provided by the blocking effect of the mountains. Then as you approach the end of the island and for 2-5 mile out into open water the wind howls as it wraps around the end of the island and the seas are whipped up as well. Then the wind slackens to the gradient speed for the trip across until you reach 2-5 miles from the next one and the wind and seas rage again until you are well into the new lee and then things quiet down again. So for most every passage you have a nice sail and get beat up twice, once at each end. Even the good parts are rougher down here than we are used to in Florida with winds normally 15-20 with higher gusts and seas 5-8ft on a good day. We clean a lot of salt off at the end of a passage!

Speaking of making passages, this is a short note on what happened to some of our friends in April. Those of us who undertake the cruising life know and understand the risks involved. They are many and varied and we take every possible measure to minimize them to an acceptable level. It is only then that we feel safe to venture out onto the open sea, often at night, to get to those locations we have dreamed of for many years.

The dangers are many and very real, ranging from falling overboard to piracy and murder. So we don’t go where pirates control the seas and load up with safety harnesses, life rafts, man overboard retrieval gear, emergency radios, extra emergency radios, EPIRBS, radar reflectors, etc, etc, etc. We monitor the weather, travel only when we feel the weather is safe and try to minimize the risks at every turn. But still, when you are out there alone, just the two of you, miles from anywhere in the middle of the night you still know that anything can happen. People get run down by ships, hit floating freight containers or whales, or get thrown overboard by an unexpected wave. As we ‘hurtle’ along at 8 knots, crashing through the waves in total darkness we put these dangers out of our heads as we have done everything to minimize them, know we are prepared if they should happen, and deep down know that they only happen to other people, not to us or to our friends. It is always the other guy, some stranger you don’t know and you know it will never happen to you or yours.

We were deeply saddened, and frightened when we received an email letting us know that the worst had happened, and to very good friends of ours. We met Paul and Helen Glavin on Helen Mary Gee in Falmouth Harbour, Antigua just before Christmas last year and hit it off immediately. As we move about the Caribbean we meet and leave people often, usually seeing them again in another anchorage and renewing friendships. Because of this constant change, friendships tend to develop faster than on land and many a close relationship is developed in a short time. You know pretty quickly when you just click with another couple, and that was the way it was with Paul and Helen and us.

We spent all our time together from Christmas until they left in mid January to visit St Martin and the BVI before coming back to Antigua to stage for the Atlantic crossing home. They planned to leave the boat in Spain and it was our plan to at some point fly to Spain and join them on Helen Mary Gee for some cruising.

On 1 April they left the BVI’s for an overnight run to St Kitts, a trip of something over 100 nm. This is a perfectly normal passage in the Caribbean, similar to ones we all do in our travels around the islands. The weather forecast was good, and although they encountered higher seas and squalls that they did not expect, it is not out of the ordinary to get weather worse than predicted. They left at 6pm and by 2:30 am Helen was on watch and Paul was sleeping in the cockpit. Suddenly they hit something, hard enough and heavy enough that it brought the 47 ft yacht to a stop. Paul was pitched forward and probably suffered a concussion as he was immediately dizzy and seasick. Helen was not seriously hurt and Helen Mary Gee did not seem to have any serious damage.

They pressed on but soon discovered that Helen Mary Gee was indeed seriously wounded and taking on water rapidly. As they began the battle to save her it also came to light that the damage or water intrusion had disabled their SSB radio so that they could only send out a Mayday over VHF. As the water finally rose over the batteries and they knew the battle was lost, they abandoned to the dinghy and liferaft, still with no answer to their distress call. As daylight broke with Saba clearly visible 20 nm away, they watched their beloved Helen Mary Gee, the yacht that had brought them safely several times across the Atlantic, struggle to stay afloat but slowly slip beneath the waves.

They still had no response to their Mayday calls and the wind and waves were pushing them further away from Saba and any chance of VHF radio contact. They then made what must have been a stomach wrenching decision……..they cut the liferaft loose and stayed with the dinghy in hopes of motoring against the wind and waves to get within radio range. Eventually they were heard by the French Coast Guard on St Martin who diverted another yacht 8nm away from their dinghy and they were rescued and taken on the yacht to Antigua. There they stayed with the rescuing couple until they arranged flights back to England where they are now. You can read more about that awful night and the aftermath at their website www.helenmarygee.co.uk.

Paul is a RYA accredited Ocean Yachtmaster and together they have crisscrossed the Atlantic, taken knockdowns at night in the Bay of Biscay, run man overboard drills just to see how fast they can do it, and chastise us for not having crotch straps on our safety harnesses. They are the ones you would like to have aboard in any adversity as they have the experience to deal with things we have never seen before. And yet it happened to them, in an instant, totally unseen and unexpected, a mortal wound struck against their yacht and home. There but for the sake of a submerged object go us.

I don’t know if the totality of this has really sunken in but it is certainly a cold slap of reality for many of us ‘out here’. We all know that this is something we can never fully protect against and that it is only the luck of the draw that keeps us safe sometimes. The only way to fully protect against this kind of occurrence is to never drop the lines and to stay at home. But cruisers know that ultimately the reward is worth the risk and we will press forward, certainly a little more sober to the fact that it doesn’t always happen to ‘somebody else’. We will still venture out at night but I am sure that as we sit alone on watch, crashing through the darkness, thoughts of Paul and Helen and Helen Mary Gee will weight heavy on our minds and the light of dawn will be welcomed with much more relief than ever before.