A Day at the Farm

What better weekend activity than a day at the farm, in this case, Remlinger Farms near Carnation, WA.  We had a great day following Brody around going from one event to the next. He sure loves anything mechanical. Bennett had a great day also, but spent most of it sleeping.

Pictures best tell the story:

Yes Chuck Berry, We are Back in the USA

Rather than simply getting on an airplane and flying direct to Seattle, we figured a more complicated way of getting home. After touching down in Houston and getting the de rigueur chocolate milkshake, cheeseburger and fries at Rubys, we turned left instead of right and flew to Tampa where our friends Annie and Tryg picked us, and our four boxes, and somehow squished everything into their new Acura. We had planned on spending several days with them, but they had to leave in two days to go to a funeral in Wisconsin. Tryg was in the process of selling his business and we had to get all our junk out of his warehouse.

Being back in Tampa brought back fond memories of when I stayed with Annie and Tryg while I outfitted Flying Cloud over a six-month period. Once in the warehouse we found our pallet and quickly made decisions about what went back to Seattle and what would be given away to locals. The next morning we all went to the airport, us heading to Houston/Seattle and Annie and Tryg to Wisconsin.
 
Touching down at Sea-Tac Airport is always a joy, except we're usually wiped out from a 12 to 14-hour flight from somewhere. United Airlines did a great job getting us there, and amazingly all our boxes made it in one piece.

We basically had a month at home, but we had a lot to accomplish in the month: visiting with our son and his family, visiting with our daughter and grandkids, visiting with whole family, visiting with friends, and getting a zillion boat parts/provisions to take back to Trinidad.

Meryl with our sweet new grandson, Bennett Levi Conner.

We spent Friday the 18th getting to see our new grandson, Bennett, and his older brother Brody at our son's house in Sammamish. It was wonderful to just hang out and go for a walk where Brody got to live his dream playing on some heavy equipment.

So good to be back with family.

Brody in heaven pretending to be driving a "dig dig."

Daughter-in-law Ashley with Bennett, Brody, son Brad, and Maya the Wonder Dog.

Putting the Boat to Bed

Trinidad has somewhat of a rough and tumble reputation among cruisers. Most cruisers opt to spend hurricane season in the more laid-back environs of Grenada and save Trinidad for haul outs and repairs. After a long discussion with a 14-year Caribbean cruiser, he suggested we sail to Trinidad and haul the boat out rather then leave it in Grenada. His reasoning was “Yes, Grenada is rarely hit by hurricanes, but Hurricane Ivan in 2004 destroyed the marina where you are planning to stay. Do you want to relax and not worry when you visit your grandchildren in Seattle?” Good logic.

Route from Prickly Bay, Grenada to Chaguaramas, Trinidad.

We left Grenada around 5:00 pm on July 11^th for the overnight trip to Trinidad, plotting a course to sail between two large offshore oil rigs and allowing enough “easting” to compensate for a strong easterly current. The trip was enjoyable, with a nice 12-knot breeze on the beam and gentle seas. There was one exception, however.

At about 2:00 am we were transiting the area between the two oil platforms. They are lit up like Christmas trees and very easy to spot. The problem was all the boat traffic in the area: service boats running back and forth between the oil platforms, shipping traffic from South America, and unmarked buoys for the oil rigs. Trying to make sense of all this, with the myriad of lights ahead of us and the multiple dots on the radar screen, was not easy. I also tend to be a little drowsy at 2:00 am. All of a sudden something caught my eye that didn’t make sense (not hard at this age). I thought I saw a glimmer of a red light coming towards us (not good, this means you are on a collision course and the other boat has right-of-way). I thought of waking Meryl, but I still wasn’t sure of what I was seeing. You also tend to be on edge since there was a piracy incident in this area several years ago and two cruisers were murdered. All of a sudden the red light became brighter and I realized the vessel was approaching us at high speed. Trying to think of which way to turn to avoid a collision, I yelled at Meryl to come up and help out. Next thing I know a huge white searchlight had blinded me and our VHF radio crackled to life. I could now see the outline of a large 60-ft. Navy-type vessel circling us and decide it would be a good idea to answer their radio call. After playing twenty questions (they were very professional, but I still didn’t know who I was talking to), they welcomed us to Trinidad and went on their way. We later learned it was most likely the Trinidad Coast Guard doing drug interdiction work, although locals told us they are far more concerned with weapons being smuggled into the country. It was a little tough to relax after that incident, but fortunately the rest of the trip was fairly benign.

Approaching the headlands of Trinidad after the all night crossing from Grenada.

We rounded the southeastern point of Trinidad and passed through a narrow channel into the large bay of Chaguaramas. Once a sleepy fishing village, the port is dominated by five large shipyards that cater to both large commercial vessels and yachts/powerboats. We had an appointment to haul out at Peakes Yachting Services and made arrangements to tie up at their dock prior to the haul out.

Getting into the dock was a bit of an issue, however. The wind was blowing fairly strongly on our beam and we had to go the backside of the dock with little room between the dock and shoreline, then somehow reverse the boat and back into a narrow slip while Meryl caught a buoy forward to tie off a line that would prevent us from backing into the dock (this is called a Med moor and is very common docking method in Europe) and I kept us from hitting the boats on either side. The problem is our boat will not back up to the right (because of the rotation of the prop) so we had to frantically hail a passing dingy to act as a tug boat to straighten the boat up has we reversed in. It wasn’t pretty, but we did eventually get tied up.

The marina offers five days free moorage if you are hauling out and we intended to take advantage of the offer. Trinidad is very hot and humid in the summer, so having access to dock power meant we could run our small air conditioner, which is just strong enough to make the cabin tenable at night.

Eric, the incredible Dutchman, who rescued Meryl's favorite glasses from the depths of Chaguaramas Harbor.

We did have one mini disaster before the haul out. Meryl was standing on the back of the boat looking down at the water when her glasses slipped off her head and fell “in de magi.” These were the first pair of expensive glasses she’d owned ($400) so we weren’t going to lose them without a fight. Normally I would have dove down for them, but I was still recovering from a bad cold and very congested. One thing we’ve learned while cruising: you lose no honor by asking for help when you need it. We got on the 8:00 am Cruisers Radio Net the next morning and asked for help; we immediately had three offers from cruising boats. We dingied over and picked up Dutch-born Eric off the sailing vessel Gabber, a 30-ft. steel boat he and his wife Ernie had sailed over from the Med.  

Eric was a certified dive instructor and at 6’ 1” and tussled blonde hair, he certainly looked the part. The water off the end of our transom was around 27 feet deep and he first tried free diving, but with no luck. I got out my SNUBA rig and after another 15 minutes of searching he popped out of the water with Meryl’s glasses in hand. He had found them under a piece of paper after searching for over 40 minutes. Naturally he wouldn’t accept any money (cruisers rarely do for helping) so we gave him and Ernie all of our perishable food since we wouldn’t have refrigeration while hauled out.

We spent the next several days getting the boat ready for the haul out and packing for our trip home. Leaving the boat in the tropics requires a lot of preparation, including: wiping the entire interior of the boat down with a mixture of vinegar and water to prevent mildew, sealing the heads, removing all perishable food from the boat and sealing the rest in plastic containers, sealing all openings into the boat, storing the outboard down below, securing anything lose with ropes and cable locks, etc. I also had to remove the autopilot system to take it back to Seattle for repair. This should have been easy but the cables to the control head would not pass through the holes at the base of the binnacle, so that involved several hours of fidgeting to get them thru. It’s never easy.

Maneuvering a 44 ft. sailboat with a 6 ft draft backwards into the second slip from the left was a challenge.

On the morning of the haul out we had to move the boat from the inside dock around to the haul-out dock. Sounds easy, but we managed to include some drama in even that simple process. Getting the boat to make a tight left turn is difficult since our prop naturally pushes the bow to the right. We did all the math and figured a way to use our spring lines to force the bow around. After much planning I pushed the throttle forward and to my horror the steering wheel wouldn’t turn. I immediately knew what the problem was but it didn’t prevent us from sidling up to the boat to our left. Luckily we both had fenders out, but I had to rush down below and disengage the autopilot from the rudder. I had assumed this would happen when I removed the unit but there was still one more mechanical piece that had to be removed. We finally got the boat moving forward around our neighbor boat and kept trying to turn hard to the left to avoid the shallower waters near the beach. We still managed to bump along several rocks (low tide) on the bottom as we rounded the end of the dock, but thankfully everything went smoothly after that.

Peakes Yacht Services has a huge Travelift capable of lifting large fishing boats.

Getting our bottom pressure washed in preparation for new bottom paint.

They really pack the boats in at Peakes. Unfortunately we couldn't use our AC, refrigeration, or toilets once on the hard.

After the boat was safely secured on jack stands in the yard, we went down to see if there was any damage to our neighbor boat. They were gone for the day so I jumped on board and luckily the only thing broken was one of their lifelines that our outboard motor had snagged. I latter went back and talked to the older Austrian couple on the boat and explained what happened, telling them I’d arranged with a rigger to fix the damage at my expense. To my amazement he refused, saying it was a bad swage fitting and he should have fixed it long ago. Amazing.

The only other incident was that our bilge pump decided to die, so I hired a local guy to look at it. In all the instructions for leaving your boat in a yard, the number one recommendation is to make sure your bilge pump is in top working order in case the torrential rains somehow enter the boat and fill it like a bathtub. Mine was off the job and collecting unemployment. It was 14 years old and it needed to be replaced anyway. It’s located in an almost inaccessible part of the bilge and I couldn’t even reach it without removing the engine. I had them design a stainless steel pole that allowed us to pull the pump up for servicing and repair. Should have been designed that way originally.

We ended up staying in a basic hotel room the boatyard had the night before we left. The boat didn’t have AC when it was in the yard so we really looked forward to some air-conditioning and a nice cool shower before our flight to Seattle the next day.

After nearly two years of cruising we've gotten a better feel for what needs to be on the boat and what doesn't, and in the "what doesn't" category were heavy blankets, fiberpile jackets, and any clothing made of cotton. We managed to fill up four large boxers with junk off the boat. Getting all this stuff off the boat (now 15 ft up in the air) and across the yard to our hotel was a challenge. Getting it on the airplane was going to be another challenge.

"You want to check all that to Seattle?"

Up at 4:00 am for the one-hour drive to the Port-of-Spain airport. Luckily the flight had empty seats and soon we were soaring above Trinidad for the four-hour flight to Houston and enjoying a long deserved rest on the airplane.  

Looking down at the boatyard as we flew over Meryl and I both took a collective breath of relief after a hectic five days. After a one-hour layover at Houston we were on our way home to Seattle to reconnect with family and friends.

Life in Prickly Bay

Life in Prickly Bay is good. The morning radio net keeps everyone informed about local events such as Yoga at Secret Harbor, Tai Chi on the beach, Mexican Train dominoes at the Tiki Hut and so on. We enjoyed going to two-for-one pizza night at Prickly Bay Marina, and getting up early to watch the European Formula One Races on the big screen with Jack and Marce on Escape Velocity.

After the Bahamas it's so nice to have normal grocery stores for provisioning.

We got a local SIM card for our iPhone so we had some semblance of being in touch with the rest of the world, did shopping trips to the IGA Supermarket in Spice Island Mall, and enjoyed frozen yogurt on rare occasions.

The high-end Port Louis Marina in St. George's.

In St. George's we explored the posh Port Louis Marina where our friends on Distant Shores were staying, wandered around the various shops, and stopped for delicious baked goods at the British-run Merry Baker.

Just "liming" with friends on the 4th of July.

The Fourth of July was not a big deal here, so we ended up on the beach with the crew from Field Trip and an Australian boat who had less interest in the holiday and more on the party. Locals would have described us as "liming," a local term for just hanging out and doing not much of anything.

When we sailed down from Carriacou it seemed that our genoa was beginning to show it's age. We took it off the boat and into the local sailmaker who wanted $1000 just to repair the leach line area.  Instead we got quotes for a new genoa and settled on using a local rep for Neil Pryde Sails who now builds their sails in the Philippines. We got a fairly good quality sail for one-third the price charged by the top end sailmakers in Seattle. We figured we could replace it three times for the same price.

The problem, however, was we still needed to sail from Grenada to Trinidad for our haul out, a passage of about 80 miles. I had been deathly sick for the previous three days, not getting up out of the sauna we call our bed until I realized time had come to leave for Trini. We had left some buffer time in our departure date but Tropical Storm Chantal pushed the date back about one week, and it was now time to go.

The Queen of the SailRite.

 
We hauled out Meryl's SailRite industrial sewing machine and set up shop on the top of the life raft on the foredeck. Although I was still wiped out from being sick, I helped Meryl wrestle the huge genoa around the deck and feed it into the throat of the machine while she guided the stitching. With some new size 20 needles Meryl did an incredible job sewing a 8 ft. patch along the leach of the sail which proved good enough to get us to Trinidad. We figured we paid for the machine in that single repair job. Trinidad here we come.

A Turtle Named Natasha

Last night we had the thrill of a lifetime. We hired a guide, Cutty, who drove us about one hour north of Prickly Bay up the east coast of Grenada to Levera Beach. The ride itself was interesting as we got to see parts of Grenada not normally seen by tourists: the little roadside bars illuminated with a single fluorescent bulb serving cold Caribs to the locals, locals sitting on a neighbors porch enjoying the cool of the night, and kids still playing on the side streets. We drove through the little town of Grenville with groups of Grenadians just standing out by the street talking or small groups of men huddled around a card table playing a raucous game of dominoes.

A naturalist tells us a male leatherback turtle can weigh up to 2000 lbs.

About 9:00 pm we arrived at a small building that serves as the reception area for park headquarters where a naturalist gave an introductory talk about the leatherback turtles and instructed us in the rules of the road of turtle watching:

• wear black clothing, the baby turtles can imprint on light colored objects when they are born, 
• walk in single file along the beach, 
• use only a red filtered flashlight, 
• no flash photography, 
• and most important, be patient. Turtles are not in a big hurry. 

From the park headquarters we drove a short distance to a parking area and gathered our gear for the short walk to the beach. Since there was no moon this night, we had to walk carefully with only the starlight to guide us. We shuffled our way through sandy paths with killer loops of vine that seemed to grab my foot at every opportunity.

We arrived at the “waiting area,” an old fishing dory laying on its side with a piece of plywood thrown up for a seating area. We were lucky since there was a light offshore breeze blowing; we’d heard of other people huddled behind the boat in 20-knot winds. After about 40 minutes we got word from one of the turtle researchers down the beach that they had found a female laying her eggs.

Following the naturalist, the group of 10 of us quickly walked along the upper beach area, carefully watching for any baby turtles that may have just emerged from their nests. We saw several distinctive tracks, but no babies. We could see small red specks from the researcher’s flashlights that marked the location of the turtle.

As we approached and our eyes got accustomed to the darkness we could make out a large, blurry form on the beach just above us. As some red flashlights illuminated the area the sheer immensity of the female turtle became apparent; she was about the size of a small kid’s swimming pool.

We were at the rear of the turtle and three researchers were lying on the ground, with two of them holding the turtle’s left rear flipper out of the way and the third, with her head literally in the hole, was counting the eggs as they dropped from the mother. About the size of tennis balls, with a very rubbery feel, the females lay up to 100 eggs per nesting.

After things calmed down a little I had a chance to talk with the lead researcher who educated me about the “ways of the turtle.” The turtles have a range of thousands of miles around the world, but always come back to the same beach where they were born. In most turtle species the females become fecund at around twenty years old, but new research is leaning towards the leatherbacks having babies at a younger age. The females are impregnated by the male turtles at sea and hold the sperm in a special reservoir in their body, and groups of eggs are then fertilized over the breeding season that runs from April to August. Using this method the females can deposit eggs on the beach many times during the season.

Each night from one to thirty females emerge from the ocean at Levera Beach and slowly lumber their way up the soft sand to about the high water mark. They then position themselves with their head away from the ocean (uphill) and slowly start digging a hole alternatively using their two back flippers, tunneling down about two to three feet and about one foot in diameter. They then lower their rear into the hole and slowly start dropping the eggs, again anywhere from 20 to 100 at a time.

During the egg laying process they are in a trance-like state and you easily approach them, feel their leathery carapace, and stare into their watery eyes. After one or two hours when all their eggs are laid, they slowly start to pack sand into the hole with their rear flippers and then begin to moving large amounts of sand into the area using their huge front flippers. The researcher cautioned me not to be behind her when that process started. “They can throw sand thirty feet in the air and you don’t want to get it into your eyes.”

Once the nest is covered, the turtle slowly starts turning around using her front flippers to pull and her back flippers to push her 700-pound body back towards the sea. Our turtle measured a little over five feet long, but the researcher said the males can get up to 2000 pounds.

He mentioned that while leatherbacks are doing well in the Caribbean, their numbers have decreased over 90% in the Pacific Ocean, mainly due to fishing, poaching, and a decrease in shoreline habitat to lay their eggs. When we were in Cumberland Island in Georgia, the researchers clearly marked the nest and then put metal netting over it to prevent wild pigs from eating the eggs. In Grenada it’s just the opposite. In the morning volunteers come down to the beach and carefully camouflage the nest to prevent people from digging up the eggs to use as food. As a researcher said, “If your family is starving, a turtle nest can provide lots of protein for a long time.”

When the female is done laying her eggs researchers triangulate the location of the nest so they can watch the nest during the 55-day incubation period. An amazing fact: Out off every 1000 eggs laid, only one baby turtle makes it to adulthood in the ocean. The researcher described the turtles leaving the nest as a very Darwinian process: “The top ones start kind of corkscrewing their way up through the sand, with the lower one climbing out on the backs of others. The poor last turtle left has no one to climb over and usually doesn’t make it out of the nest unless a volunteer is there to help.

For the ones who do make it out of the nest there are still lots of predators between the nest and the ocean, and many more in the ocean as they swim away to begin their new lives. As we watched the female slowing make her way through the soft sand to the harder sand at the water’s edge and finally into the first wavelets of ocean water, we couldn’t help but be amazed by a process that hasn’t changed since prehistoric times.

As we walked back single file along the beach we came upon another smaller female laying her eggs. A researcher turned to Michael, Sara and Mark’s 5-year-old, whom they fondly called Einstein, and said, “We need a name for this turtle.” Michael and Elizabeth, his 7-year-old sister huddled and came up with the name Natasha. Natasha will be tagged by researchers and entered into the logbook to be tracked wherever she goes around the world. As we quietly walked back to the car all of us realized we’d just experienced something very special, and gained a new appreciation for fragility of life and the dwindling numbers of the endangered leatherback turtles worldwide.

A Walk up Heartbreak Ridge

After getting anchored at scenic Prickly Bay, we decided to explore the main town of St. George's. This involves a dingy ride to a restaurant called de Big Fish, then a short walk past the Spice Island Boatyard and down to the roundabout where you pick up a local #1 bus which heads into town. Local buses are privately owned in Grenada and are very entrepreneurial. If you are walking anywhere near the road they will give you a shout out. If they are going the other way they will turn around. It’s a highly efficient system that works well in practice and costs only 93 cents.The only downside, the driver gets to chose the music, and the speakers are big and loud.

St. George's climbs up the hillside to several churches.

A wide variety of strange things can be bought at the market according to this little boy.

St. George's, the main city in Grenada, clings to a steep hillside and spills down to several small lagoons along the seaside. We visited on a Saturday, Market Day, so the streets were full of locals searching for bargains at the various stalls. We’re always amazed at the variety of goods offered for sale and the throngs of people filling the streets. Many Grenadian's get their clothes, shoes, food, and a plethora of other goods from street vendors.

Grenada Chocolate, the creation of the late Mott Green.

While walking along the waterfront we happened along a small shop selling the famous Grenada
chocolate. It’s an interesting story of an eclectic American student, Mott Green, who dropped out of Penn State in his senior year and became a squatter in Philadelphia.  He was well known for his ability to tap into the power grid to illegally power the squatter’s houses. He eventually ended up in Grenada where he organized the local farmers to process their cocoa. He wired the entire factory with solar (using his previous electrical skills) and slept in a small one room house even as the company gained international recognition for its chocolate. Sadly he recently died at age 47 from electrocution while doing some wiring.

 

Fort St. George's, made famous in the Clint Eastwood film "Heartbreak Ridge."

"Oh mon, God will tell you how much to donate for my fee."

We continued south along the waterfront and began climbing a steep hill up to Fort St. George, an ancient French fort that dominates the town. This is the fort made famous by the US invasion of Grenada in 1983 and later in the Clint Eastwood film, Heartbreak Ridge. As we labored up the hill under the burning sun a local guide approached us. “How much does a tour cost.” “Oh, mon, God will tell you how much to donate for my fee.” The tour was interesting and highlighted damage from Hurricane Ivan in 2004 and more importantly, the location of the mass execution of the then Prime Minister of Grenada, Maurice Bishop and 12 members of his cabinet in 1979.

The short version was that after Grenada gained independence in 1974, a new Prime Minister, Eric Gary, attracted investment capital from around the world to begin a massive redevelopment (the result of unrepaired damage from Hurricane Janet in 1955). Gary had a very authoritarian style that wasn’t popular with the people and his administration was rife with corruption and nepotism. As a result he was overthrown by a popular lawyer, Maurice Bishop. Bishop, who was described to us by locals as a good guy, unfortunately surrounded himself with Cuban advisors who encouraged him to build the strategically important Salinas airport (with a huge, oversized fuel depot more suited to a military airport, thereby raising suspicions of the locals as to its real intent.) The Cubans brought in Russian advisors and Cuban troops began showing up on the island. A rumor was that 10,000 Soviet troops where scheduled to arrive. The Cubans and Soviets were strongly disliked by the locals, who rebelled and imprisoned Bishop and his cabinet. 

Passageway to cell that held cabinet ministers.

Cell in Fort St. George's where cabinet ministers and the Prime Minister, Maurice Bishop, spent their last days.

A brass plaque stands as remembrance at the site of the killings of the Grenadian cabinet and Prime Minister.

At one point locals took Bishop out of his cell, and along with his cabinet, lined them up along a wall of the Fort St. George and shot them. As you can imagine, the potential of Soviet troops and missile emplacements in the strategic Grenada area gave President Regan apoplexy, and in 1983, under the pretense of “rescuing the American medical students at St. George's Medical School,” (who didn’t need to be rescued), Regan sent in the Marines who routed the Cubans after a few days of fighting. The US then supported a more conservative government and as a result, Grenada seems to be one of the few foreign countries that welcomes Americans with open arms.

The Carenage, the fishing and commercial port of St. Georges.

 
After the tour of the fort, and in between sporadic rain showers, we continued walking along the waterfront. There are two lagoons in St. George's, the main fishing and commercial port called the Carenage and the swankier Port Louis Marina port.

The Port St. Louis Marina.

At one point we stopped to listen to a local guy in front of a bar playing a single steel pan drum, who was very good. We really want to find a festival or such to listen to steel pan bands, some of the best in the world are from Grenada and Trinidad.

After walking some more along the waterfront we finally gave in and caught one of the ubiquitous mini-buses back to our dingy at de Big Fish. It had been a long, hot day and we were ready for a nap.

      

On the Way to Prickly Bay

We left Carriacou early in the morning for the long sail down the east coast of Grenada. We sailed on a close reach in about 15 knots of wind, a fair wind for this passage. We had debated about going down the leeward side of the island where the seas would be milder, but our previous experience was the lighter and variable winds in the lee of the island’s mountains made the winds erratic and sailing more difficult.

The 36-mile sail down the east coast of Grenada to Prickly Bay.

As we approached a the Les Tantes and Ronde Islands to starboard, we noticed the seas were getting steeper and the wave periods closer. Apparently a major ocean current rushes between these islands and the north tip of Grenada, making the area notorious for rough water. Escape Velocity was an hour behind us so we radio’d to them about the deteriorating sea conditions. They wisely opted to bear off and sail down the west side of Grenada in calmer waters.

Once we were past the northern tip of Grenada the sea conditions moderated and we enjoyed a brisk sail, moving along at about 6 to 7 knots in the fresh breeze. Since we weren’t that far offshore, we marveled at the spectacular views of the green mountainous terrain of Grenada, with the mountain tops peaking out from the clouds from time to time and the waves crashing up on the rocky shoreline.

At around 3:00 pm we rounded a headland and headed into Prickly Bay, one of the more popular anchorages on the southeast side of Grenada. The southeastern end of Grenada is blessed with a number of long, protected bays giving the cruiser a wide variety of anchorages. We found a good spot just off St. Georges Universities’ beach club in about 30 ft. of water. While there was some surge coming around the point, the anchorage was well protected. Approximately 100 boats filled every nook and cranny of the harbor, but it was a large enough area that we didn’t feel crowded.

Prickly Bay Marina.

Prickly Bay seems to attract many American boats, while the nearby Hog Island anchorage attracts boats with kids (given the active kid’s programs on the nearby beach) and Clarks Court Bay has a mix of European and South African boats. The advantages of Prickly Bay were two good restaurants, De Big Fish and Prickly Bay Marina, both of which are very cruiser friendly, and more important, a Budget Marine store right behind De Big Fish. We made many trips into Budget getting various parts and supplies; they have a good selection and the staff is very helpful. They also have a program so cruisers don’t have to pay the 17% value added tax (VAT) charged to locals.

Dry storage yard at Spice Island Marina.

There is a large boat yard, Spice Island Marina, where you can haul your boat out for long-term storage during the hurricane season. I’ve never seen a boatyard jam so many boats into such a limited space, but the more tightly packed the space the safer the boats are in hurricane force winds.

Historic hurricane routes. Grenada lies just south of most tracks.

 
Why are we in Grenada in the first place? Most insurance policies require that boats be south of 12º during hurricane season. Grenada is generally safe from the path of hurricanes, with the exception of Hurricane Ivan, which devastated the island in 2004. Most hurricanes are formed as lo’s off the coast of Africa near the Cape Verde Islands, and travel with the trade winds across the Atlantic. Generally, they begin to turn north to northwest before they hit the area of Grenada.

We had originally planned to leave the boat in a marina in Grenada for the month of July while we traveled back home to Seattle, but a neighbor boat convinced us we’d sleep better at night if we sailed 80 miles south to Trinidad and hauled the boat out.

Devastation from Hurricane Ivan in 2004.

We looked at photos of the boats in the Grenada marina, all of which were destroyed during Hurricane Ivan, and decided that even if the hurricane risk was minimal in Grenada, that we would sleep better at night with the boat in Trinidad which is rarely touched by hurricanes.

The salvage tug Flying Buzzard with the burnt hull of a 57-ft custom yacht in Prickly Bay.

There are always risks when you sail, but you try to minimize the ones you have control over. A stark reminder of that was the burned-out hull of a 57-ft. custom sailing yacht that was tied off to a salvage tug just behind us in the harbor. Apparently a week earlier the boat had caught fire in the middle of the night, and while the crew was lucky to get off as thick smoke filled the cabin, unfortunately, there were no boats with fire fighting capabilities so the boat burned to the gunnels. We later met some cruisers in Trinidad who were friends with the British couple who owned the boat and they told us more details of the incident. Apparently the occupants were very lucky to have gotten out alive. Many of the countries we cruise in simply don’t have the rescue/firefighting resources that the US and European countries have to ensure the safety of their citizens. This is why cruisers are so highly dependent on each other for safety and security.

We’ll spend the next couple of weeks exploring Prickly Bay and St. George’s before heading south to Trinidad for our haul out. For now we’re just enjoying reaching our destination after a long, windward sail from Block Island, RI down the coast of the US, through the Bahamas and Exumas, and finally the Leeward and Windward Islands.