Back in the Tropics

On Tuesday, January 29, we arrived in Grenada, where Epicurus had been left on the hard at Grenada Marine in St. David’s. We had made arrangements to rent an apartment for three days near St. David’s, so that we could inspect the work that had been done on the boat before putting her in the water. Even though we had made reservations for a 4-door SUV for a week, the car rental agency only had a small 2-door SUV, with enough room for a couple pieces of luggage. Luckily, the owner the apartment met us at the airport to guide us to the place, so he was able to put most of our luggage--8 checked bags and 4 daypacks--in his van, saving us multiple trips between the airport and the apartment to transport all of our stuff.

The apartment was up in the hills with a lovely view of the mountains and the sea. The owners, Lucille and Anthony, are wonderfully hospitable. The apartment we rented is on the lower level of their home, which is terraced down the mountainside, and the pool was adjacent to our terrace. We shared a Carib, the locally brewed beer, with them after we settled in; they treated us like their personal friends and guests rather than renters.

On Wednesday, we went to the boatyard where work which had been requested eight months ago was in progress but not finished. We had planned to launch her on Friday, but by early Thursday, it became clear that she would not be ready for us to move on board. We were very fortunate that we had a nice place to stay and were able to continue to occupy the apartment for a few more days. (Of course, all the delays cost us money as well as time, but there’s not much that can be done about it in the Caribbean, so there is no sense in getting stressed.)

When Peter was not at the boatyard making sure that work was getting done properly and in a somewhat timely manner and the rest of us were not busy with homeschooling, we explored the island in the car. The capital, St. George’s, is situated on the water, by a bay called the Carenage and there are many picturesque historical buildings. The streets rise up from the waterfront to hills topped with churches and the remains of French forts. On the other side of the main hill is the commercial center of town, bustling with pedestrians and small shops. There is an open-air market in the center. We went there to buy fruits and vegetables on Saturday but didn’t find much. We were told that we needed to be there before 7 a.m. to get the best selection! Even though there a few supermarkets in St. George’s and Grand Anse, the suburb to the south which attracts tourists with its beautiful beach, most natives still go to the open-air market for produce or buy it from stands along the road.

We also drove along the winding roads up into the mountains to see Annadale Falls, which is about 30 meters high. While we were there, a local guy jumped from the cliff at the top for contributions for photographs. We also saw a Mona monkey, a descendant of monkeys brought from Africa centuries ago. (He didn't expect any money but was on the look-out for human food.) About one-sixth of the island is preserved as national parks, the largest of which is Grand Etang (Big Pond). There is a very small visitors center near this body of water, which is in the caldera of an extinct volcano, but we have found that the natural and historic sites on the Caribbean Islands are not complemented with museums and signs explaining the geology, biology, history or cultural significance of the places in any detail, as they are in the States. There are no docents or rangers. The best stop we made, for me, was a spice and herb garden which offered guided tours. Walking through the garden on our own would have been pleasant, but the guide taught us a lot about the plants and their uses, so we came away not only with a nice memory of a pretty place but with a small bit of education.

Our guide books provide only limited information, so I am often left thinking that the sites are nice but I don’t feel like I have had any in-depth experience. Also, I have been spoiled by the grand scale of places such as Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Grand Canyon, Mammoth Caves, Rome, Paris, Washington, D.C. and the small scale attractions on the islands may be beautiful, but they are usually not awe-inspiring. (Sometime the open seas are, however!) For me, the best part of the islands is the life under the water, on the reefs. I never seem to tire of snorkeling and always find new things.

There are not many tourists here, so the areas have not been intensely developed to accommodate them, although this is beginning to happen, and tourism is beginning to replace agriculture as the main industry. On some days, cruise ships disgorge hundreds of tourists for a few hours of sight-seeing and shopping in St. George’s and tour bus trips to the waterfalls and the parks, but most seem not to venture beyond the first few blocks of the city. At Fort George, a woman from one of the ships didn’t see anyone else around and asked me if I thought it was safe to enter alone into the courtyard through the tunnel-like gate. We have actually found that it seems to be very safe here, and the people are unusually friendly and helpful. There is not the same work ethic in terms of meeting deadlines, working quickly and ensuring the job is done to perfection, but this is a cultural difference and not a moral issue. The people seem to be decent, good people.

We have gotten to know a few on a first-name basis here at the boat yard. They tell me about whether they have ever lived anywhere other than the island and about their children. Most have visited nearby islands such as Trinidad (which none of them like--it’s too big and dangerous there) and St. Vincent’s, but they have not been on a continent. Most are very patriotic about Grenada and say they wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. We can appreciate this.

Thursday, Feb. 7, was Independence Day, celebrating 34 years of autonomy from Great Britain. It is a big holiday. Almost everyone dresses, even the day before, in the bright national colors of green, red and yellow. On the Monday before, I asked one of the guys who works in the boatyard to confirm that Thursday was a holiday and that all the businesses would be closed. He said “Yes, and all day Wednesday, we be getting ready!” (Indeed, it was true; on Wednesday morning, Lucille brought down a plate full of delicious cakes that she had been busy preparing.) Yikes, I thought, because Wednesday was the day the boat was re-scheduled for launch and I was afraid that no work would really be done that day. Peter spent even more time at the yard, and on Wednesday afternoon, she was hoisted onto the lift. The boat that went in the water before us had unexpected engine problems and wouldn’t start, so we waited and waited until well after 5 p.m. We were somewhat surprised that the dock hands, riggers and others who needed to help just patiently waited, even though quitting time is 4 p.m. and it was the day before a big holiday. On the other hand, no one, including us, was surprised by a delay. Happens all the time here.

Sails, lines, and other miscellaneous parts, as well as the washer and dryer, which had to be moved to get into the engine, were all about down below, but we managed to move things around and begin to settle in. We slept really well that night, tired and rocked by the sea. By the end of Thursday, I had everything unpacked and stowed, and things were beginning to look ship-shape in our living space. (My friend Paula told me that she thinks that one of the reasons living on a boat appeals to me is that I hate clutter, and having things in their place and neat is a necessity when sailing.) Peter and I put up the dodger and biminis yesterday and stowed all the extra lines back in the forecastle, so it’s looking like home on deck and below now.

We are still here in Grenada, in the water but on the dock at the boatyard, because a break in the fuel line to the generator (broken by accident when some work was being done) was discovered, and the part that is needed has to be shipped in and won’t be here until Wednesday. Meanwhile, a very nice guy who used to live in Ft. Lauderdale (and therefore works more like an American than an islander) has been busy touching up paint. The riggers were on board Friday tuning the standing rigging. I stood on the aft deck and watched, occasionally cocking my head and squinting up the line of the mast as if assessing whether the mast was straight and the rake was proper. In reality, I had no idea what they were doing or if they were doing the work right, but I gave the impression of competence, and the boss came and discussed with me why the turnbuckles are seized and the compatibility of different alloys and metals. I nodded knowingly.

Meanwhile, Peter is busy, busy, busy, and wondering why he ever bought a boat. A few good hours of sailing on Epicurus, however, and I know he won’t care about all the headaches. She’s a fine boat, even if she is starting to show her age, and very sea-worthy and comfortable. Not everything works all the time, but we learn what we can live without. (Right now, we are living without radar, and I wish we weren’t!) Peter can fix almost everything. Once again, he repaired the washing machine the best he could. Every time the boat is not being used and left in the heat, the belts disintegrate and it’s virtually impossible to find replacement parts for a 22-year old Maytag. He made a new belt himself this time, so I’m living in luxury--you would think! The reality is that the washing machine agitates the clothes, but it does not spin, so I still have to wring out every piece of laundry by hand and rinse them in the sink before hanging them out on the lifelines to dry. The dryer has always worked perfectly, but we don’t really need it! It’s also a hassle for Peter to attach the vent tube each time; it connects up to the back of the dryer, in the engine room, behind various large things in there (I don’t really know what half the stuff is.) and I can’t reach.

We are adjusting our diet to life on the boat also. One thing I really miss while we are cruising in the Caribbean is fresh milk, which is not a staple for the islanders but is my main source of protein as a vegetarian--besides, I love it! I was pleasantly surprised when we went to the supermarket in Grand Anse the day after we arrived to get groceries. There was an abundance of milk! Grenada went up quite a few points in my book! At the beginning of last week, however, when we went to get more food, there was a gaping hole in the dairy section and no milk anywhere! We figured out we had just been lucky the first time to have shopped the day after the boat with food supplies had come in. We were told that there would not be milk until Friday. Since we returned the rental car on Wednesday, we weren’t able to return at the end of the week. The boatyard is miles and miles from any shops, so we are living without milk again. On the other hand, we have an abundance of fruit and vegetables. A van came to the boatyard a few days ago loaded with freshly picked goodies. The mangoes are the best we have ever tasted, and we have wonderful papaya, watermelon and the local star-shaped fruit called carambola or five-finger fruit and wax apples as well as fresh cauliflower, cucumber, lettuce tomatoes and peppers, all picked that morning. We aren’t going to starve even if we do suffer from protein deprivation.

While we are here, we still have internet access. This pleases the kids, particularly Katya, as they can still access YouTube and watch Yu-Gi-Oh! episodes. Every year, they bring fewer toys (but all their electronic games and apparatus--although Katya forgot her DS on her bed), and I think this is a combination of their subconscious realization that they need less stuff and their growing up (always too fast). Matthew is still very much a little boy and interested in a variety of things, but Katya, now 13, has adopted an attitude of boredom which, we point out to her, is not very attractive. The usual response to most comments of this sort is her signature eye-rolling.

It rained half the day here, but the weather has been beautiful in all. It’s a bit windy and is expected to stay that way for a while, so sailing will have a thrilling edge when we finally take off.