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