Saturday, December 12, 2015

Leaving Prickly Bay



This morning, we finally lifted anchor in Prickly Bay, Grenada, and sailed by jib, downwind, around the headlands and curled north to anchor in 21 feet outside St. Georges.  The two-hour trip was done easily, but with no fish.  The anchorage bottom is mostly just coral rubble, and, although we arrived before lunch, we were worried that the day would be spent "anchoring til happy hour".  We tried at least six times before being reasonably satisfied, but only earned one anchor beer.  We need a better union!

Still, it is nice to be outside of the opaque water of Prickly Bay, and in water that allows you to see the bottom.  Swimming on the anchor was a pleasure.  We intend to spend the easy afternoon in this breeze and blueness, and then join Steve and Maria of s/v Aspen at the Yacht Club for 5 pm.

We were rather caught up in our chores by Tuesday, and had intended to spend Tuesday afternoon at the University Club pool in Prickly Bay, swimming and getting an internet fix; but as things happen, Steve and Maria landed there in their attempt to abandon their own workload - so we had an enjoyable chat.

Wednesday, as planned, we joined Steve and Maria as they rented a car and attempted to give Steve his "archeological fix".  He intended to circle the island and visit ancient caves and petroglyphs.  We, and I guess Maria, were just along for the ride.  We had a lovely hike to a cave at Black Bay, heading down the same river that forms the Concord Falls (Dawn and I had hiked up to these falls from the bus stop with Darrel and Loretta of Cankata in 2006, this cave was in the other direction).  We actually didn't find the cave without help - we had to hire a local, Dillon, who was fishing the mouth of the river with his mother.  It was a grand cave with two entrances, and a rather flat floor.  It would have made a lovely home a couple of thousand years ago, once the bats gave up on it, and some lovely Carib Indian furniture was moved in (can't really say we've ever seen Carib Indian furniture in any catalogue).  The hike, with a log balance over a stream, some mud, and a tough rock scramble, was just tough enough for Maria to withhold her seal of approval; but a lot of it was through the old road and orchard of a former plantation, that was being brought back to life as the cocoa crops are increasing in value locally.
Dawn with Maria in the background

We also found that if you want to get help finding petroglyphs from the locals, you need to say you are looking for Carib rocks, not petroglyphs, otherwise, raised eyebrows follow.  One was the size of a transport truck engine and cab, and was in a very eroded stream bed beside a highway.  In the past, the government had placed a little concrete house with a lookout veranda and toilets above it, but this was in disrepair, and no signage was evident.
Petroglyph or Carib Rock as the locals say
Humm...a bridge, of sorts.  Let's all go one at a time.  Laurie, goes first!
Steve trying to find the path to the caves!
Dylan, the guy at the stream helps us across and shows us the way.  He smiled brightly after we gave him a token of our appreciation!
cocoa growing all through the farm we walked through

The best part of the trip, all agree, was the discovery of our lunch stop, the Petit Anse Resort and Restaurant, on the north end of the island.  It had a beautiful restaurant high above the little beach, facing the northern Grenadian islands.  The food was as good as the fantastic view - the best rotis in the Caribbean, easily.
Maria and Steve.  Steve is all set to find a swimming hole by the look of his swim trunks peeking out below his shorts!
 On Thursday, we got caught up physically and emotionally in the efforts to find a missing Canadian woman whose parents live in New Brunswick.  Linnea Veinotte was running and walking her dog in an upscale residential area called L'Anse Aux Epines (an area that also includes the Cuban Embassy and the British Consulate) on the morning of Sunday, 06, December, 2015.  There were no witnesses to an accident, but several people in the development heard the noise of an accident, including the yelping of a wounded dog.  One of these persons was walking her own dog towards the accident scene when a particular type and colour of car drove by her moving fast and erratically, and actually caused her to have to get out of its way.  Moments later, she came upon an obvious accident site, and found a badly wounded dog.  Assuming a human victim was being rushed to the hospital she turned her attentions to helping the victim's dog.  However, according to the police, there was no evidence at the scene that Linnea Veinotte herself was injured in the accident, but there was no sign of Linnea. 

We had been able to distance ourselves from these problems with other appointments, but we ran out of excuses, and went to shore to visit the headquarters of the efforts to find her.  We got to hear what was known from Linnea's husband Matt (who was in terrible shape), and then sat through a strategy session.  It was concluded that the best thing to do was to bring pressure on Grenada officials to maintain their efforts, but also to call in more expertise from Canada, US, or Scotland Yard.  Anyone knowing about the police in small countries, or with experience in the Caribbean would understand our misgivings.  It is not their fault that they may not have the training or experience - but it is not the victim's fault either.  We took it upon ourselves to contact media and politicians in Atlantic Canada, and to attempt to get the Canadian Government to make a sincere offer of assistance, and spent the rest of our day in a restaurant with horrible internet attempting to do that.

The situation rapidly changed, however:  Late Thursday night it was reported that the vehicle in question was found and the owner's name was made public as the search for him continued.  Friday morning, he gave himself up; and later in the day, a body was located - probably with the man's help.  We still do not know what happened, and wonder if we will ever.  I am left to rescind our pleas, and thank those who were willing to assist.  People live and die; many die too soon, a lot die in greater numbers and in even more terrible circumstances - but this situation grabbed our attention and it seemed we could do something.  

Last night, we went to a brew pub with the woman who had taken on the command centre: Kathy (& John) of s/v Katerina, Ontario.  She and the other volunteers who accompanied us had some need of a few drinks and a few laughs.  The craft beer was good, by the way - a brew called West Indies IPA was favoured by Dawn and me.

Our plans are to sail to Carriacou on Monday morning in the company of s/v Aspen; where we will rendezvous with Lorna and Brian aboard s/v Peace and Plenty.  We'll spend two weeks with them all, Aspen will head north, and we, with Peace and Plenty following, will return to the south end of Grenada so we can show them around.  We will also pick up our new batteries at that time.   So, Monday = our real shake-down cruise.