MY Fifty Shades *

The captain and first mate studied the weather and scrutinized the charts.  A course was proposed to leave the endless beach of western Barbuda and sail one hundred-eighty nautical miles west to St. Croix-USVI in time to spend Christmas with the kids. The float plan included a few days stop over in St. Martin-FWI to get a baguette fix for the captain and prescription snorkel mask for the first mate. 

 

Exit Strategy pulled up her anchor just as night fell and the captain took the first watch.  Three hours later when the first mate stirred from her bunk, she found the sails full and all was well.  The captain reviewed the vessel’s heading with her and a look at the radar screen showed no other vessels or nasty weather in the way.  Then he retired below deck to settle down in his bunk. The last thing he did was turn off the lights in the cabin.
 

Without those lights, it became VERY dark.  There was no moon light cast upon the waters although this passage was taking place about a week before the full moon. The first mate noted that the sky was thickly clouded and nary a star showed through.  It was EXTREMELY dark.  It was so dark that the first mate could not even see her own feet!  She was wearing a day-glow green shirt, but it looked grey.  The white fiberglass in the cockpit took on a lighter shade of grey.
 

The first mate reviewed the screen again and fell into her night watch routine. First, she clipped the tether attached to her PFD’s safety harness to the starboard side and scanned the horizon for other vessels or hazards by naked eye. Then she used the binoculars to study the starboard side horizon again.  Nothing was found, so she moved to the port side and did the same search.  No worries there, either. Afterward, she looked astern to see if any navigational lights appeared and found none.  She checked the instrument panel and everything was A-OK.
 

Suddenly, the sky lit up well forward of the port side.  The first mate determined that the lightning was a great distance away because it had not shown up on the radar screen.  Nevertheless, she continued with her night watch routine and she began to pray.  All the while, the first mate scanned the sea in a 360’ pattern.  Her focus was so intense that she began to discern varying shades of the night. The rolling waves took on the look of huge muscled, dark grey creatures scurrying across the water always in a westerly direction.  The waves crested near and far in curious swirls of light grey. The dark clouds shifted and ballooned into monstrous proportions. The blackish grey line at the horizon remained a constant.
 

The light show continued, developing into streaks of lightning now occasionally appearing well forward of the starboard side, and finally well behind Exit Strategy on the starboard side.  The vessel was making way easily and on course with no squalls or light rain crossing her path.  The first mate felt secure at the helm as she resumed her watch routine of looking for lights and hazards, reviewing the monitors, and praying.
 

About an hour before the captain was due to take over the watch and relieve the first mate, scant glows of lights from St. Barts, St. Martin, and Anguilla began to appear at the horizon and the lightning show ended.  Exit Strategy’s sails took on new definition in yet a lighter shade of grey, still full and moving the boat at a good pace.  Now, nearing a more populated area, a number of red, green, and white navigational lights were spotted. A few were small fishing vessels while others flashed in patterns to indicate safe passages along the coastal waters of the islands.
 

The captain awoke and joined the first mate in the cockpit.  He was pleasantly surprised that they were that close to their planned “pit stop” in Grand Case, St. Martin. They reviewed the radar and GPS monitors together and determined that everything was fine. Then the first mate handed over the binoculars and kissed the captain “Good night”.  She went below and snuggled into her bunk. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, a more intricate collage of shades of grey was revealed.
     

*All photos taken from Google Images

BARBUDA



Exit Strategy and its crew were looking forward to visiting Barbuda (pronounced Bar-BEW-da), Antigua’s little sister island.  Time ran short last spring when we cruised Antigua, but this year the winds were in our favor.  So northward we sailed from Dominica, passing the lush farmlands visible along the leeward side of Guadeloupe.  We saw multiple rainbows along the way as we maneuvered through isolated light showers, reminding us of God’s covenant with His faithful people.  Yes, it was rain that produced those rainbows, but nothing we couldn’t handle in mainly 15-20 knot winds.  We were reefed and ready.



The northern 5.5 miles of Eleven Mile Beach

The southern half of the beach

We made landfall in Antigua’s Jolly Harbor where we cleared customs and immigration because we were unclear about the procedure for getting permission to cruise Barbuda. I had requested permission via e-mail a week before arriving (as indicated in a recent sailing publication) and finally got permission via e-mail after returning from the Antigua office. 



Barbuda is only twenty-five miles north of Antigua, but it is so flat that you can’t see it until you are just a few miles out.  Even then, the “bumps” of land or trees or buildings can be mistaken for a cloud or vessel on the horizon.  But no-  it’s Barbuda!  As we drew nearer, we could make out varying shades of Caribbean blue under a thin strip of white sand with a clear sky above.

 

                                                        

Viewed from our boat: Codrington is at the horizon past the lagoon.

An estimated seventy-five percent of Barbuda’s coast is rimmed with reefs.  Our guide book described the western shore south of Low Bay as easier to safely navigate, so we headed there to drop the hook.  This side of the island is called Eleven Mile Beach and we walked about half of it on different days. The sand is pinkish along the surf from bits of pulverized coral. There were no docks, but nature was kind enough to bury some sturdy driftwood every so often onto which a dinghy could be secured.  There was one restaurant that would open for dinner IF you went in and found the owner in time for him to go to town to get food to prepare and the chef.  An exclusive beach resort that delivered guests via helicopter was north of our anchorage. It posted a “Guests ONLY Beyond This Point” sign on the beach.  We skipped that resort and preferred to frequent the Oasis Snack Bar, an up-cycled shipping container, on the beach about one-hundred paces away. 

Animals graze untethered just off the main road in town.

 

We went into the main town of Codrington by way of water taxi that motored us from the thin strip of Eleven Mile Beach across the lagoon.  The town was easy to walk about and the people were extremely friendly.  Barbudans are a closely knit community and they knew all about us in town because word had spread after our conversations with the bar tender on Eleven Mile Beach.  The other big news item of the week was about a local butcher who had been arrested after stealing and slaughtering a steer…





A tractor shot for my farming family

             

 

Sorrel makes a refreshing sweet red drink. 

 
It would be so easy to lose track of time here with miles of pristine beach to explore.  One could easily decide to stay indefinitely or at least until your provisions ran out.

Nighty night, Barbuda.

 

“Coney” Island Dinner

The beach on the Atlantic side of Petit Nevis.

 Not a day has gone by since we began to venture north into the Grenadine Islands when a local fishing boat hasn’t stopped by to sell us lobster, lambi (conch), or fish. This week we’ve been anchored off of the uninhabited island of Petit Nevis and there have been fishing skiffs with crews of three or four on a daily basis that have come into the bay to net bait.  Everyday we wave as they motor past and then watch as they toss a net or two.
      

                          

We snorkeled around the boat and off the rocky shore and, yes, there are fish in the bay.  So this morning, after yet another fishing boat quietly motored into the bay at first light, I was inspired.  I began to ready my rod and realized it needed more attention than I planned since Dan was last to use it and he rigged the lure his way instead of mine.  I decided to throw out a handline to watch while I retied the lure on my pole. So I got a scrap of tuna from the bait bag in the freezer and set the bobber to hold the bait at appropriate depth for the anchorage.

Well the fish were indeed hungry because as soon as I tossed out the line- BAM! something took the bait and got away.  I got more tuna and was ready for the next hit as I held the line.  It came just as quickly and I gave the line a quick jerk to set the hook better.  Hand over hand I pulled it in and called to Dan to get me a bucket.  It didn’t take Dan long to bring the bucket and then both of us tried to figure out what kind of fish it was. It was dark brown and round–shaped with a bright blue edging on the fins. We found it on the Surgeonfish page- a Doctor Fish variety to be exact.  None of our fish identification books said it was edible, so I poured it overboard and threw the line out again.

These were the last 2  to clean.

Another hit!  Up, up I pulled and could see that it was a fish of a different color.  When it splashed out of the water I recognized it as an edible type we knew.  There are a wide variety of fish in the grouper family. They come in all different colors, with many patterns such as spots, blotches, or striping.  This one was a medium brown with tiny bright blue spots all over and had a few black distinctive spots.  It was identified in our Corals & Fishes- Florida, Bahamas& Caribbean by Idaz & Jerry Greenberg as a coney.

I continued pulling more coneys in just that easily until I had more than enough for dinner.  And tonight we’re having a “Coney” Island dinner.

BUMP! in the Night

Dan spies something for his dinner plate...

Dave of s/v Vivace I  quickly got the hang of cleaning conch.

Captain Dan and I were sitting below playing a friendly competitive game of 500 Rummy as we do after supper on many evenings.  I had just taken the lead after an extremely bad start that tallied my score into negative numbers.  Our morning had been spent lobstering with our Canadian friends, Lesley and Dave, of s/v Vivace I which yielded a beautiful catch…of conch.  We met them on the beach mid afternoon with their dog Sadie- the cutest little critter you've ever seen. Dan taught Dave how to clean conch while we girls relaxed in the warm surf.  Later we sipped sundowners and enjoyed a huge pot of conch chowder on board Exit Strategy.

The bump is part of White Island near Carriacou.

 
Then B U M P !  We instantly dropped our hands on the table and scrambled up on to the deck. Oddly enough, we found s/v Vivace I ever so slowly passing along our starboard side!  The BUMP! jolted  Lesley and Dave from their sleep and they jumped out from below onto their deck. 

Exit Strategy and Vivace I had been anchored at Saline Island just off the cut between it and the reef.  During the past two days and nights, we had observed Vivace I dosadoing about her anchor and come within 20 feet of Exit Strategy more than once, but we felt like we were a safe distance apart. Obviously, we were WRONG.

The current in the cut controlled Vivace I's every movement.

The four of us stood stunned until the current slowly spun Vivace I around again pushing her straight toward us.  We hurriedly hung fenders along our starboard side as she threatened to kiss our hull a few more times.  We diverted her bowsprit by hand while Lesley and Dave used their boat hook to push Vivace I away from Exit Strategy. Then Dave- who is a happy-go-lucky sort of guy- faced us in the dark and politely asked, “What do you think I should do?”

It was decided that the best plan of action would be for them to re-anchor Vivace I although no one relishes the thought of doing that at night.  In the moonlight I could see the W shape on the bottom of the bay where the sand and weeds met.  I knew our anchor lay there and I pointed it out to Dave.  We shortened our anchor rode to give them more space to pass freely.  They pulled up anchor and motored well forward of us and re-anchored in a spot somewhat more protected from the strong current that flows through the cut.

In the morning, Dave & Lesley dinghied over to see if they had done any damage and thankfully none was found.

Lesley, Dave, and their pooch Sadie have been our sailing
buddies since we met in Antigua last April.

   
PS: Captain Dan won the card game after all. 
l

The Waterfalls of Grenada

Two of the nine Seven Sisters Falls

       Grenada is an island of lush vegetation and many natural rivers, lakes, and streams. Its interior is sprinkled with many of the most beautiful waterfalls in the Caribbean. The adventurous can independently access some of the falls by taking a local bus route to the beginning of a trail that may be worn, yet unmarked.  Recently we took a trip to see a few of Grenada’s falls with a dozen other cruisers with Patrick, aka “SHADEMAN” as our knowledgeable driver and commentator.
 

      Our first stop was at the Seven Sisters Falls which is located mid-island along a main road that winds up and down extreme curves through part of the rain forest.  Our guide there called himself “Super Butterfly” and we were soon to discover why after he lead us safely through the forest, pointing out flora and fauna along the way. We passed stands of bamboo along the muddy path and Super Butterfly pointed out that it grows six inches/day.  Captain Dan said, “You must have some really good ganja to watch it.”

Walking sticks were handy

 

Our guide, Super Butterfly

 After a half hour or so we caught our first glimpse of two of the nine falls that comprise the Seven Sisters.  Fly told us that the falls are owned by seven sisters and there are actually nine falls.  The sisters currently live in the USA. “No Jumping” signs were posted at the entrance of the trail AND the man who collected our fees also verbalized “No Jumping!”  However- Super Butterfly encouraged us to jump and/or dive shallow in exactly the right DEEP spot.  He was the only one to climb the wall and dive- BACKWARDS, no less- landing feet first.  I was tempted to jump from a boulder into a lower fall’s pool, but chickened out.  Dan and a couple of other men jumped/dove and surfaced unscathed.
    

Our next stop was brief because many in our group had visited Annandale Waterfall previously. It is another lovely fall hidden from the road and frequented by many because it is doesn’t require a lengthy trek through rugged terrain. Annandale Falls is touristy in that it offers photo opportunities for a fee, such as that of an island lady balancing a huge fruit basket on her head and young men who risk life and limb to dive into the pool at the bottom of the fall.



Red blur near center is diver

Another blurry diver

                                      
      SHADEMAN suggested we take a shortcut down through the town of New Hampshire on our way to our last stop at Concord Falls.  The road appeared to be little more than a paved goat path, that twisted and turned often, snaking its way down through the valley.  We arrived in time to enjoy a bountiful lunch of curried chicken complete with dessert.  Then a short stairway down deposited us at the falls.

Our tour group buddies

Concord Falls

              

A Job for the Pros ?

New bimini has extra layers of leather to avoid chafe.

       What was I thinking when the Captain suggested that surely I could sew a new bimini? We needed a new one badly. The old pro who fashioned our dodger eighteen months ago said our bimini was good until we could see the light of day coming through. Well- not only could we see the light of day, but we could also feel the rain dripping through since I scrubbed all the Saharan dust out of the canvas to prepare for company in June. It was time for a new one.
      
       What was I thinking?  (Fret not my family & friends as I am not on the verge of Alzheimer's.)  When compared to others, our bimini is large. My cruising friend Barb of s/v La Luna encouraged me, “Sure you can do it. I made ours.” (No offense, Barb- but I vaguely recall that yours is about half the size of ours.)     

       The old bimini was a handy template for the new one. The captain & I made notes on a few improvements. I measured twice- sometimes thrice or frice (I’m aware that frice is not a word.), cut once, then sewed for five days straight, forming a close bond with my spiffy new Sail Rite machine. It was a love-hate relationship. I hated tweaking the tension and would have loved to have thrown it over board, yet I pressed on breaking a needle in the process. The sixth day was Sunday and I gave myself a much deserved day off for good behavior, but deep down I knew I desperately needed some distance from that !@#%* machine.  

        Sunday evening we decided to watch a video. In fact, we selected two DVDs…the ones that came with my spiffy new Sail Rite machine. (You know- the ones that provide helpful tips on using and maintaining the machine.)  One vignette illustrated how to properly fill the bobbin. I noted that the process was different from what was shown in my printed owners manual. I edited my manual and the next day I filled three bobbins as displayed on the video. By the end of that day, I was nearly in tears. All day long I sewed and ripped out, sewed and ripped out. In addition, I ruined another needle when it bent while stitching around a zipper, leaving me with only one good needle.  I was ready to take the project in to a shop and let the pros handle it.    
 
        In desperation, the Captain & I reviewed select sections of the DVDs and dismantled part of the machine. We checked the thread and bobbin tensions, the walking presser foot mechanics, and the stitch timing. All these seemed to be adjusted correctly. We oiled every moving part. We carefully inspected the shuttle hook and the retaining ring cap spring (that far from resembles a spring) and found a burr to sand smooth. Still there was no real improvement.    

        Then it occurred to me that I had wound the bobbins differently. The next day I rewound a bobbin and tested it. PERFECT. The bimini was completed without damaging my one last needle! Its shade offers us much relief from the blazing sun of Grenada’s rainy season.

PS: I put out a call on the daily Grenada Cruisers’ Net for Sail Rite needles and got a quick response from a lovely catamaran- s/v No Rehearsal who gifted us with a dozen needles in various sizes.  THANK YOU No Rehearsal! 

Loops sewn in to hold light ropes in place

Underwater Art

The secluded beach at Dragon Bay

      When we arrived in Grenada this year, the first thing we did was sight see.  But not just any old usual touristy stuff.  No- we had read about a marine park with underwater sculptures located near Moliniere Point and decided that we just had to investigate it.
      The park features a number of life sized pieces by Jason de Claire Taylor that are artistically positioned in the crags and crevices along the rocky bottom. While the sculptures were essentially beautiful, many had a hauntingly eerie effect on us.  See for yourself…


Circle of Friends?

This guy doesn't seem to "have a prayer" left...

            



Had too much butter with your lobster?

You know what they say about all work and no play-

              

He definitely took a wrong turn!

She swam like a rock.

            
These are just a few of the pieces.  You’ll have to come down to Grenada and see the rest yourself!

KICK ‘EM JENNY

     It is clearly marked on the charts as an EXCLUSION ZONE.  Furthermore, the danger of entering the area is well described in cruising guides. Should a vessel pass over Kick ‘em Jenny as an eruption occurs it would instantly sink due to the massive air bubbles rising to the surface of the sea.  A First Mate should not have to beg the Captain to steer clear of Kick ‘em Jenny.

What is Kick 'em Jenny? (Source: http://www.uwiseismic.com/General.aspx?id=27)

Kick 'em Jenny is a submarine volcano located 8km north of Grenada. The volcano is about 1300m high, and its summit is currently thought to be about 180m below the surface of the sea. As far as we know, Kick 'em Jenny is the only 'live' (likely to erupt again) submarine volcano in the Eastern Caribbean. It is also the most frequently active volcano in the region, erupting at least 12 times since it was discovered in 1939. The last eruption of Kick 'em Jenny occurred in December 2001. For details of that eruption go to news archives. The volcano is currently at Alert Level YELLOW and there is 1.5km exclusion zone around the volcano.

Kick 'em Jenny is also a modern day demonstration of how the volcanic islands in this region were formed. With each submarine eruption deposits of volcanic material accumulate around the summit. All of the volcanic islands of the Lesser Antilles began as submarine volcanoes. 

     We have sailed along the lee of the Caribbean Island chain twice while on route to Grenada, passing Kick ‘em Jenny closely.  The first time was uneventful, but the second will forever be committed to my memory.

     Last summer the Captain installed a new plot charter-radar system in the cockpit so we could have all the information at our fingertips. (Before that, our only chart plotter was down below at the nav table.)  Our new plot charter is a tremendous help, but it can also scare the livin’ daylights out of a First Mate. 

     My eyes were fixed on the screen as Exit Strategy glided effortlessly toward the exclusion zone.  I alerted the Captain and he adjusted the course on the autopilot. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then the wind began to whip up erratically, forcing the bow to head back toward the exclusion zone. The Captain adjusted our course again.  I thanked him, but soon stiffer blows pulled us back into the danger zone.  Finally, the vessel was taken off autopilot and the Captain’s strong arms on the wheel and the grace of God safely guided us beyond Kick ‘em Jenny. 

Depth to Summit Measurements:

    DATE                 SHIP                      DEPTH

1962 October       HMS Vidal                  232m
1966 June           HMS Lynx                   192m
1972 May           HMS Hecla                   190m
1976 May           R/V Gillis                      190m
1978 April          R/V Endeavor               160m
1981 October      N.O. Noroit                   160m
1985 April          R/V Conrad                   160m
1989 April          Submersible                 150m
1997 May           R/Malcolm Baldridge    177m

(December 2001 last eruption)

2003  May          Submersible                  180m

Bequai, South African Style

        The winds or lack there of sometime necessitate a change in sail plan. (Doesn’t it seem as though that’s a reoccurring theme in our blog?)  We were aiming to sail from Laborie, St. Lucia to the southernmost Grenadine island of Petite St. Vincent. However, after encountering a squall with winds gusting to 30 knots that was instantly followed by slight winds on our nose, we cut the distance of the trip in half by stopping at the Grenadine island of Bequai.
         We’d been to Bequai before, but this time it was with the South Africans and that made it a nonstop blast. Please refer back to my post “The People You Meet” in Nov.2012 in which I described the South Africans as “those who are always organizing a party.” Our dearest South African cruising friends are John and Joann on their aptly named vessel Out of Africa.   

John and Joann of s/v Out of Africa

        Our stay in Bequai’s Admiralty Bay entailed constant socializing through which we met quite a few new cruising friends. There is a daily cruisers’ net on VHF Channel 68 at 8 am.  Most mornings, when the net controller asked, “Are there any social activities for the net?” John would announce an outing and off we’d go.  Then while were were involved in that activity, he’d casually survey the attendees as to what event might be planned for later that evening or the next day.  Sometimes, John would instigate a get-together and then delegate the organizing to someone in the group who expressed a degree more enthusiasm than the average cruiser, (i.e., I was assigned the implementation of a snorkeling venture to Devil’s Table.) Some of the daytime activities included: wandering around the town of Port Elizabeth and walking the hilly road north, then east to the Turtle Sanctuary.  As the sun set, there were sundowner gatherings on various boats, a BBQ potluck dinner on Out of Africa, a pizza birthday party on another vessel, and a sortie ashore to check out Bequai’s Carnival “Jump Up”.

Brother King is caretaker of the Turtle Sanctuary.

Lunching goats after touring the Turtle Sanctuary
Harry & Melinda s/v Sea Schell are on far right.

         My favorite outing, though, was suggested by Melinda and Harry on s/v Sea Schell and spurred on by John.  It seems that they learned about the hike to Peggy’s Rock from Devi and Hunter of s/v Artic Tern.  There were about a dozen cruisers who gathered at the dock at Princess Margaret Beach. Harry said he knew the way, so we all followed him up the hill to the main road toward Friendship Bay on the other side of the island. We traipsed along chatting with one another as cruisers do, sharing boat maintentance and sailing stories.  Harry noted that we were supposed to take a path up the mountain once we got to the Whaling Museum, so we kept a lookout for the path because we knew that most island hiking trails were unmarked (EXCEPT on the FRENCH islands).
        We carried on…a few buckets of sweat later, Harry and I were walking mid-group and I asked for specifics on finding the path.  His answer was a bit sketchy.  There happened to be a boy standing on his porch near us, so I asked him if he could direct us to the trail.  The boy indicated that we had just missed it, so we back tracked a short distance and began the ascent.


Grazers on one of the grassy knolls

  
   The initial incline was enough to separate the men from the boys, BUT not the cruisers from the namby pamby.  We carried on…here and there were grassy knolls in the open sun followed by a nicely cleared trail through shady bush. I kept looking up, thinking that we must almost be there, but no.  During the strenuous climb, I got separated from Dan and thought he was behind me nursing a badly bruised big toe he had stubbed on deck.  I waited for him in a shady spot a few times (mainly to catch my breath), and then- SURPRISE!-  I saw him well ahead of me in the small cluster of hikers who were in the lead! 

Peggy's Rock (I still wonder how she found it...)

All our vessels are anchored below in Admiralty Bay

        After a few more buckets of sweat, the view from on top of Peggy’s Rock was overwhelming.  We were so relieved to have reached it without casualties, although a few in the group did stop about two-thirds of the way up.  They missed out on the cooling breeze and the birds eye view of our anchorage below that revealed the varied topography of the ocean floor.  We’ll share the photos taken with them, but it’s just not the same.
       And I swear-  if I ever take this hike again, I’m going to mark the entrance to the trail on the main road!

       PS:  When he arrived at the top, Harry publically thanked me for having the good sense to ask directions.

St. Vincent and Its Boat Boys

Many mountainsides have terraced gardens.

The cave at Kearton's Bay was a filming sight for The Black Pearl.
 

     
        During last season’s trip down island we took a pass on St. Vincent after hearing about incidents of theft and assaults on cruisers. Marijuana is the biggest cash crop on the island, although it is indeed illegal there, and that added an element of danger. There are so many beautiful, safe anchorages in the Caribbean making it an easy choice to skip those with security issues.  However, for more than a year, not a single report was made to detour us any longer, so there we went to enjoy the deep bays, exquisite and lively reefs, lush vegetation and the tropical fruits of St. Vincent.
        We walked to a nearby waterfall and ate our fill of luscious rose apples in the adjoining garden. Another day, we took a bus ride into the capitol city of Kingstown.  There we toured the Botanical Garden and learned more about tropical plants species from our knowledgeable guide, Sammy.  Alone in the anchorage of Petit Byahaut, we hiked the deserted ruins of a once popular resort and harvested a huge bag of mangos. Fishing is how many earn a living on St. Vincent and we marveled at the varied methods they used near dawn and dusk daily in Kearton’s, Barrouallie, and Buccament Bays.  We snorkeled often around the rocky shoreline that suddenly dropped off to dark depths and were rewarded with a splendid display of wide-ranging corals and sea creatures.

This one's for Lilly- The Cannonball Tree flowers exude
 a rose sent before its huge "cannonball" inedible fruits form.

Under one of St. Vincent's many waterfalls
 

     
















       What we did NOT enjoy were the numerous boat boys in select bays who would not take our polite “No, thank you” for an answer.  Walliabou Bay is one such location and, unfortunately,  it is the bay we chose to clear into customs and immigration. Walliabou is one of the filming sites used in the film Pirates of the Caribbean, so many boats stop there.  It seems the boat boys think that anyone who cruises must certainly be rich and able to buy whatever they are selling. Quite the contrary is true, of course. We know that most cruisers are a frugal lot and some, in fact, are down right cheap.  We sailed into St. Vincent knowing that the island was hurting for tourist dollars and decided to spend some money while there.  But we aimed to spend it on tangible items like goods and services.

Another filming location just outside of Walliabou Bay;
three corpses hung from this rock in the movie.

This movie set also houses memorabilia from Pirates of the Caribbean.

     
      We did pay for one man to help secure our stern to a piling, but all the others who were merely touching the boat thought they should also get a tip.  We promised one boat boy named Julian (who balanced a crate of fruit on an old surf board as he paddled) that we’d buy some fruit when we needed it in a few days, but three others continued to hound us.  We bought fresh tuna from Ronald who cleaned it and gave us tips on fishing around the island.  One afternoon a man rowed up to the boat and asked the Captain for rice- we gave him half of what we had on board.  Another day, a fisherman paused at the stern and asked for a soft drink which we gave him.


The boat boys were momentarily distracted away from our boat...

Ronald, a pleasant boat boy and a darn good fisherman!

        But one afternoon we were returning from town and a young boy stopped his bike at the dock where we were unlocking our dinghy.  When I smiled at him and said hello, he said, “You tip me?”
        I thought I misheard him and asked, “What?”
       He repeated his request.  I said, “Tip you for what?  What did you do?”
       He hesitated momentarily, then said, “For going to school.”
       WELL- the teacher in me politely let him have it- “Going to school is YOUR JOB. You’re supposed to do that and do it well.  I hope you keep going to school and grow up to be an intelligent man.”
     “What intelligent?” he queried.
     “Smart,” I said as we left the dock. “Smart enough to get a job and support your family when you grow up.”