Continuing to Lime In Bequia

Yesterday at noon, we got Liz and Pauline to the ferry to start their voyage home.  They returned by air to Trinidad for a last night with Judy Roy, and will land in Toronto tonight.  They will be together at Pauline's in Toronto before Liz flies to Fredericton tomorrow.

It was a great visit, with the girls getting in a bit of shopping, some good meals out, interacting with other cruisers (specifically our friends Maria and Steve aboard Aspen), some swimming and snorkeling, and some time to read in the breeze of the harbour aboard Cat Tales.  We hope they took home some good memories.

Here are some pictures Dawn took during the visit: 

Can you find Liz reading on the deck of the starboard side?

The stern of Cat Tales shows the dinghy hung so it can drain from the rather regular rains.  It also shows layers of bimini, shade attachments, and sarongs dangling to allow for some comfortable shade on the boat.  The wind is nice, but without the shade one would be uncomfortable in just a minute or two.  If you look carefully, you might see Liz reading out on the side.

These three pictures show the pool and cabana at the Firefly Plantation and Restaurant, where we could swim if we bought the lunch.  Liz was certain that she and Hugh should rush back as soon as possible, until she saw the room prices.

Pauline and Liz enjoying a cool drink by the pool before lunch

A view from the restaurant of the pool with the ocean in the background.

The rest of the pictures Dawn took while snorkeling with Pauline just to the side of our boat.  That is our anchor, the Brittany, nestled in the sand.  The orange fish is a file-fish.  The snake is actually a gold-spotted snake-eel, and is super-curious and not at all dangerous.  The last is a lionfish. 

Our anchor sitting in sand with about 100 feet of chain attached and laying on the bottom.  We have seen it snuggled in deeper, but it's doing its job!

File-fish

Gold spotted snake-eel along with a spiny sea urchin

an invasive and unwanted lionfish

The lionfish is a very much unwanted invasive species.  Every edge and tentacle is sharp and laden with toxin.  A friend had a little sting he received while spear fishing them that expanded his finger until it split and needed stitches along with antibiotics.  The lionfish floats around the reefs and simply sucks young and small reef-dwellers into its giant stomach; a stomach that can expand to 30 times normal size.  It reaches maturity in one year, and then pumps out  30 000 to 40 000 eggs every 4 days.  There are no natural enemies here for it, but they are trying to teach other species to eat it.  Some sharks have developed a taste for them, so we must stop the carnage against sharks.  The only good news in all this is that they are super-tasty.  I had one cooked for me last week at the Firefly Restaurant, and it was amazingly succulent, delicate white meat.  I hope to eat them again soon; but will not be fishing for them myself.  Spear-fishing is the only way to catch them, so the locals won't be casting nets or dragging lines hoping to catch the unwanted newcomers.

Lymin' in Bequia

Upon last writing, on Saturday, March 7^th, we were in Rodney Bay, about to “up-anchor”, when the police boat tied up and started to review our paperwork and safety gear.  It is interesting that over the years, St. Lucia police have probably been on our boat 6 times.  To be fair, they were invited the first time, as we had suffered intruders off the shore of Suffriere, in 2005.

At any rate, they were soon gone, and we continued to haul up chain and ultimately departed at just a little after 3 p.m., headed south.  We kept the main totally packaged in its bag, and rolled out most of our jib to let the 15-20 knot wind cross our port stern and push us down the west side of St. Lucia.  We were anchored by 6 p.m. under a big cliff in flat calm waters outside the village of Canaries (pronounced as canneries for some reason).  Likely because of the lateness of the hour, we floated unmolested by young men on surfboards or kayaks as is customary, and enjoyed a very lovely evening - after all, it had been months since we had an evening without strong wind and slapping waves.

The trip across the open water between St. Lucia and St. Vincent was quite lovely, with 15-20 knots of wind well off the bow, and the seas down for no reason.  We called in to Denis’ Net to tell him how nice it was, and he asked if the horseshoe was uncomfortable - suggesting we were quite lucky to get the conditions, and that they were a short reprieve in a localized area.  Well, the good luck continued until we only had 10 miles to go, and haziness caused the admiral to demand that we put some jib away.  Indeed, the wind continued to grow and fast; and we continued to furl the jib until it was only 3-4 square feet showing.  As the wind hit 30 knots, I started an engine, and jumped on the deck to haul all of the main down.  Our boat’s manufacturer suggests we can carry sail until the wind hits 40 knots if we are close-hauled, but says to dowse all sail at 30 knots if we are at beam or broad reaching.

We put up with the motoring for 40 minutes until the windstorm abated, the tiny bit of jib supplementing one engine to allow for 6 knots of propulsion in total.  It was a dry squall, in that there was very little rain - barely a mist - however, I got soaked as the wind delivered square waves that hit the beam of Cat Tales solidly, often pushing up to 10 gallons straight up, and the wind delivering it, en masse, to the steering station.

We approached the giant Sufriere volcano on St. Vincent, only by going 5 miles to its west in the hopes of escaping any acceleration zone or local squall.  But for once, the peak was clear, and the seas and wind were steady and easy, allowing us to get well along to the middle of the island before having any issues.  Even then, the issue was no wind, not too much of it.  With low risk of real danger, we motored for an hour, then sailed easily across the 2 hour passage from the main island to Bequia.  We caught no fish!

Since here, we’ve had a rather slow and quiet existence.  We’ve hiked twice, lunched ashore twice with casual acquaintances, and snorkeled the little reef between the beaches once.  The “reef” is a little outcropping that is favoured by the cruisers and other tourists for snorkeling.  We see quite a few species, and it is just a 5 minute swim from our stern.

I (Laurie) worked up an article for the Caribbean Compass, and will submit it today.  I also wrapped up my most recent attempt at a book.  That sounds better than it is - I wrapped it up does not mean I finished it, but decided not to finish it.  It is an argument for litter management in Bequia, complete with academic discussions regarding motivation, task force work, communications systems, and infrastructure improvements.  The problem is, while I’ve been away, a committee called “Action Bequia” has made significant inroads against these types of issues, and my potential book is moot.  Their “actions” speak louder than my “words”!  Oh well, deep down I know how dumb it is for people from “away” to start telling the locals what to do and how to do it.

Still, with that in mind, take a look at the following pictures.  Dawn and I were swimming along at the nearby reef when this guy with the “fish belt” swam by us.  He has been snorkeling with a fishing line and bait, and was able to drop the hook in front of exactly which fish he wanted each time.  He called these “butterfish”, and he caught them using cut up “robinfish”.  I believe they are hinds or coneys, very pretty fish that Dawn, I, and most snorkelers look for and love.  Looks like he got ‘em all.  Our search of the rocks attests to it - we saw no more.  I was quite motivated to tell him that taking all of them was not the brightest idea, but he was so proud of his technique, combining snorkeling and fishing, that it would have done no good, and again, I am not from here.   Well, it may be a while before he can pull it off again!   Poor education and understanding decreases all beautiful things in the world, and the Caribbean can no more escape that than anywhere.

Last of the Coney Fish

 

We will be greeting Liz Abraham and her cousin Pauline on the ferry dock here on the 19^th, and will have to choose one of them to put in the cockpit hammock with a rum punch first for stress relief.  Until then, we continue to gobble up books and enjoy the comparative slow pace and solitude.

A juvenile Angel Fish not targeted by our fishing friend.  The reef is swimming distance from the back of our boat here in Bequia.

Back in St. Anne, carrying the repaired forestay and furler to Tarentela.

Laurie, pulling down on the forestay while Al pounds the pin home!  Team work!!

St. Lucia

It seemed as if our time in Saint Anne, Martinique, was short and busy.  We picked up necessary parts and fixed some things, spent a good time with Lorna and Brian and also visited more with Steve and Maria of s/v Aspen.  Al and Michele of Tarentela arrived and we were able to help them replace their forestay and jib furler.  My, what a giant/tall rig they have!!  It was quite interesting.  

However, Denis, our weather guru told us that there was a partial weather window forming for Tuesday, a subtle reprieve from the 20 to 25 knot winds. Although Steve and Maria said it was too rough for them, we decided to take it since it looked like the next opportunity was a long way off.  Lorna and Brian on Peace and Plenty decided to travel with us.  We waited until 11:00 am to get the lowest winds and all in all, the 3.5 hours weren't that bad.  We had the third reef in the main and very little jib out and although the waves were 2 metres tall, there were 8 seconds between each peak and because they were coming a little from the north, they really didn't bother us too much.  We did have one squall with winds over 30 knots but we put even more jjib away and the boat sailed along quite safely.  We had trouble finding good holding for the anchor, but we were settled, mopped up salt water in the cockpit and were celebrating a successful crossing by 5:30 pm.

Wednesday morning we dinghied into the marina through the returning high winds (25 knots) and cleared in with the health department, customs and immigration, picked up parts for the watermaker that were fedexed from Trinidad and had lunch.  I, Laurie, lunched with Brian (Peace and Plenty), John Fallon (Stopp Knot),  Al (Tarentela), and other men who had all dropped their wives off at the ladies luncheon that is held every Wednesday at an upscale hotel with a pool and hot tub!  The ladies discuss no amps, volts or boat parts!!  The men, on the other hand, talked amps, volts and boat parts!!

Yesterday afternoon, we along with Lorna and Brian, paid a visit to our dear friend and long time mentor, John Fallon on Stopp Knott anchored near us.  We were happily  amazed at his efforts to reconstruct Stopp Knott since the fire several years ago.  The boat looks very good and he recently took company from NB to Grenada and back!  Later that evening, we dinghied to Jamb de Bois restaurant inside the national park and were lucky enough to spend more time with John and to have a meal with his friend Edgar with whom we had enjoyed the Bequia Easter Regatta in 2010.

But now we find ourselves on Saturday evening, readying the boat to cross the channel between St. Lucia and St. Vincent.  The short reprieve from the high winds is expected to happen from 8:00 am to later in the afternoon (Sunday) and as we type this we are sailing the boat to a little fishing port 2 thirds of the way down the island.  We'll up anchor at 5:30 am and head south.  The biggest problem will be the winds around the volcano at the north end of St. Vincent.  We'll go 5 miles out to sea to decrease the effects.  We hope to make Bequia tomorrow (Sunday) just before dark.

This morning, feeling we needed some exercise, we joined Lorna and Brian on a 2 hour hike across the island to a little bay called Cas-en-bas.  back at the marina, we celebrated the hike with rotis and beers.  The Bread Basket makes the best rotis in the Caribbean!

I have included a few pictures today of our hike to Case en Bas.

This last shot is of the Rodney Bay police boat tied to us for a routine check just before we were ready to lift anchor to sail south. They filled out form after form until they got a call and apologized saying they couldn't finish with us today!  Oh well!!