FLASH BACK: Deborah safely arrived on Tuesday, 02-16-2010. We were beside ourselves. We gobbled her up, got in the bus and took her to Port Louis in St. George’s, the capital of Grenada for a good night’s sleep. After all, we are 4 hours later in the day than California, her home-port.
The next morning, Deborah woke after a sound night’s sleep aboard Moody Blues berthed at Pt. Louis Marina. It’s a lovely marina with great showers, beautiful grounds, gift shop, 7–11 type shop, good restaurants, a beach and parrots.
This parrot thought we had food for it. Not . . . but still he (? or she) flew into the fence to check us out. (I was lucky enough to collect a few of his off-cast, colorful feathers from the two parrots . . .)
Deborah had said she really wanted to “Go sailing,” so we decided to take her to the Tobago Cays in the St. Vincent Grenadines. This meant checking out of Grenadian customs and into St. Vincent customs. Then out of St. Vincent Grenadines into Grenada’s Grenadines, but hey, making tracks is what she wanted to do.
But, due to the time factor we didn’t even give her a chance to see Grenada itself, but immediately took off north.
The conditions weren’t optominal: 20–25 kts of wind on the nose and 1.7 meter waves. Basically it was a nightmare (for me), but Deborah had some great seasickness pills (Scopane) and wasn’t fazed . . . in fact, she slept–a lot!–and when awake, looked aft, not forward, so the sea seemed melancholy and she’d smile and then take another nap–topside where a fresh breeze tickled her nose and left her lungs extradinorinary clean.
We arrived into Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou (still a Grenadian Grenadine) at sunset. It was not a green flash sunset, but spectatular in any event (especially being out of the rough sea conditions).
All in all, I cannot tell you how flabbergasted I was over Deborah’s unfazement of the crossing. I rode the horse (sat on the cockpit’s table and hung on for dear life) and ended up saying to Gene (before we got out of the lee of Grenada), “Should we turn around?” He said, “Are you kidding? If we go back, we don’t come back.” I looked at Deborah, crashed out, as peaceful as an angel and decided if she could handle it, so could I. So we kept on keeping on.
Deborah didn’t said one negative word, other than, “I think I’ll take a nap,” (not that that’s negative) and she never upchucked. She just slept as we ploughed through the pounding sea with Moody Blues’ nose buried in the rambunctious Caribbean sea.
The water that cascaded along the rail, overbearing the scuppers on the starboard side of Moody Blues, was frightening–to me, the chicken. Deb laughed at it. That gave me courage.
Next day we came around the point, passed Sandy Island (above) and went into Hillsborough, Carriacou.
Here’s Gene checking us out of Grenada.
Here we are checked out of Grenada and heading back to Moody Blues to go check into the St. Vincent and its Grenadines.
Deborah and I stayed outside while Gene checked us in. Here is Deborah walking the main street of Union Island.
Local Union Island flora.
Local fruit and veggie stand in the Union Island’s plaza.
This is a restaurant in Union Island. Our time frame didn’t allow us to go there, but it sure is picturesque.
Underway, Deborah drove Moody Blues. As you can see, Gene isn’t flipping out so she must be doing a spot-on job. (You go girl . . . )
Actually, as you can see, Deborah became very comfortable at Moody Blues’ wheel. Whatta salty dog!
We anchored in the Tobago Cays, amidst such beauty it was awesome. This photo above is just a hint to its beauty.
Unfortunately I don’t have an underwater camera so I can only give you a tiny, itty-bitty taste of the flavor we bathed and snorkeled in. It was phenominal.