I wanted to shake up my life and go sailing (or learn on the job, so-to-speak) so headed to Florida to crew on a catamaran. This is about how it went or, rather, didn't - and my life since. Hopefully it will lead to a catamaran on the clear aqua blue waters of the Caribbean Sea, watching the sunset, a coconut rum and coke in hand. You must START AT THE BEGINNING of the blog, April 2009, to get the whole story...

Friday, October 18, 2013


I set my alarm to be up by 5:30 so I can pop my head out of my berth hatch and see the sunrise. WOW! It is GORGEOUS!!

Sunrise in Saltwhistle Bay

I stand there and watch the show for at least 20 minutes before I lay back down and try to sleep but can't so read.

Once up, I watch La Boriel, a 'small' luxury cruise ship from France, sail into the Cays.

I wait for the coconut bread I ordered from yesterday to arrive and when it does it is delicious.  I pay $10 EC instead of $6.  It just seemed too cheap to pay that little and it is obvious to me that the local people do not have a lot of money so I feel it is the least I can do.

When we go to leave the bay, the same boat boy that helped us off of the sand last night wants $60 EC for the mooring ball. Rick is angry about that and refuses to pay more than $40, as that is what they go for around the other side at the turtle reserve. He seems really angry at the amount of money he has spent since arriving here so I give him $100 EC to cover most of it. When you consider the exchange rate, it isn't that much money.

I am sad to be leaving the Cays - it is beyond gorgeous here, truly a paradise and I don't know if - let alone when - I will ever be back. It saddens me almost to tears to leave.

We stop in at Union Island again to sign out of the Grenadines. We girls stay on board although I am alone most of the time as Alessandra prefers her cell phone to my company, it seems, so I sit on the swim grid and dangle my feet in the water. A squall comes over and it rains hard for 10 minutes and soaks everything not below deck. Rick is still away and doesn't return for over an hour. He stopped at a bar when the rain hit and ended up staying half an hour.


Alessandra is planning on making pasta again today. I am starting to get annoyed. I paid for a good portion of the groceries we purchased and there was chicken and fish in the cart. Where aren't we using any of it? This trip is almost over and we've had chicken once and pork one other night. I tell her as nicely as possible that I need protein, that there has been way more carbs this week than I would normally eat in a month. She doesn't seem happy to hear this but, oh well. I will cook myself a chicken breast to go with the pasta whenever our next meal is.

Once Rick is back, we head over to Petit Martinique for fuel. It is sunny and very hot and I try to stay out of the sun as it feels like my back is burning. It takes us about an hour to get there and Alessandra is in her cabin pretty much the whole trip over. I thought perhaps it was because she was upset about me wanting protein but apparently she is feeling seasick.

We arrive for fuel and then take the dinghy over to a spit of sand named Mopion just off of the island on the other side.  It is just tiny with a palapa on one end that is being taken by the sea as the sand shifts.

Heading in to Petit Martinique for fuel

The idea was for me to have my picture taken under it but the waves are very rough and the water too deep around the island. I am afraid I'd never be able to get back into the dinghy so I don't get out. Shame really. It would have been a cool pic to have.

What Mopion used to look like

Mopion today

After a pretty motor sail past Carriacou's backside while the sun, we drop anchor in Tyrrel Bay at the south end just before dark. Rick comments at the close call on the timing as he doesn't like to drop anchor after dark.




Sailboat in the sunset

Boats in the sunset

There doesn't look like there's much here. Hillsborough, around the other side, is the main town but there is no sheltered anchorage there.  Apparently one used to have to clear customs into Grenada at Hillsborough but they, just in the last month, moved the office to Tyrell Bay as cruisers complained a lot that it was inconvenient to have the customs office where you couldn't overnight.

It takes a few tries to get the anchor set and then we finally eat at 18:25.  The chicken tastes amazing as I was actually craving it. I can't say I've ever craved chicken before. 

All photographs are mine and not to be copied without express permission from me (click on them to see the large version).
Some names have been changed to protect my butt.

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