The last six weeks

The whole of our last six weeks of cruising has been colored
by Jack's shoulder injury. The nasty bruise finally went away,
but the nasty sprain has not finished healing. And to our misfortune
the Activities of Daily Living on board require two strong, or
at least functioning, arms.
When we finally left the anchorage at Marin in Martinique it
was to pass to Bequia in St Vincent and the Grenadines on the
two mildest days for weather we had seen in the two weeks we
had been at anchor. We were cognizant that if weather came up
and we needed strength, it wouldn't be there.
Fortunately, we had a lovely sail to Marigot, St. Lucia, then
to Bequia for the Easter Regatta. We had left a voice mail for
Blazing Flames that we wanted to take a mooring from him, and
he met us at 5:30 to guide us in. We had been on one of his
moorings in February and knew they were safe, and safe from charterers
dragging. The mooring also afforded us good views of starts
or finishes of many of the races.
Bequia was busy during the regatta. The Tuesday before it started
there were probably no more than 60 boats in Admiralty Bay.
By Thursday, when it started, there were 140.
The Bequia Regatta is not a fancy one. In Antigua or St. Martin,
world famous boats and classic yachts come to race, but it Bequia
the categories are work boats of a local design, J24's, cruising
boats and a "Surprise" category. The locals, racers from other
islands and cruisers compete; they lime on the beach and the
next day they show up at 8am to do it again. Kids learn to race
at an early age in Bequia. The coconut race, where kids make
sailboats out of coconut shells, has an age 5 and under class.
Grandparents we met told us about their races when they were
kids.
The regatta ended in a cloudburst of heroic proportions during
the prize giving ceremony. Fortunately, we had been too tired
to go, so we just went to bed. When we woke up, the harbor was
virtually empty. Easter was over, and people had to get back
to their own islands and jobs.
Then we left for the Tobago Cays. We were fortunate that the
fanbelt broke while we were still in Admiralty Bay. We shut
off the Mighty Yanmar and sailed back toward the town. We anchored
safely, and got help from African, who ferried the mechanic out
and back. Then the weather got vile and we stayed on a mooring
(this one African's) for the next couple of days.
Accordingly, we got to continue our acquaintance with the proprietress
of the Whaleboner (a waterfront restaurant and bar). We mentioned
that we admired the whalers in Bequia—they are permitted four
humpbacks annually, by traditional methods. Traditional methods
means open boats and harpoons. She said they had caught a whale
just the other day but she probably wouldn't buy any whale this
year. (She did give us her two favorite recipes—if you ask we'll
pass them along.) And at Coconuts we had the best fish chowdah
we have ever eaten.
We finally got a little stir crazy and decided to take a chance
on what looked like a small break in the weather to head down
to Carriacou Grenada via the Tobago Cays. Sailing south we crossed
the path of Gisella and Uwe on Venus, sailing north. They were
our neighbors in Kemer Turkey one year. We're getting used to
seeing people we know. We weren't at all surprised to see Joan
and Alisdair of Campari Chaser in Union, SVG. We last had seen
them in Corfu, Greece.
We were able to spend one semi perfect day in the Tobago Cays.
The Greeks called Delphi the Navel of the World. But Laurie
thinks it's really the Tobago Cays. Anchored in the shallow
water with reefs creating variegated patterns of all sorts of
blues, the view is two thirds a bowl of island at varying distances
and one third empty ocean. The ocean is held back from breaking
your boat to smithereens by the reef known as End of the World.
In the evening, most of the head boats are gone and the trades
settle down. Pretty darn perfect.
Except that beaching the dinghy to snorkel had caused Jack's
shoulder more stress and the forecast Laurie could piece together
the next morning implied strong southeasterly winds with poor
visibility that could trap us there for several days. Laurie's
tolerance for boredom is less than Jack's for pain.
So now we are in Union at the southern end of St. Vincent and
the Grenadines waiting, once again, for weather to tell us what
to do. We are scheduled to cross to Trinidad on April 28, a
full moon, since the radar is still broken and night time passages
are preferred for avoiding VZ drug boats. A daring seven mile
passage will take us back again to Carriacou to wait.
Update: Now in Carriacou, waiting. It's as mellow as Bequia.