Grenada, continued…

February 1-2

We moved the boats to St. George’s, which is a little further up the west coast from Prickly Bay.  The kids enjoyed playing in cockpit on the picture perfect sailing day.

When we arrived, we were impressed by the quaint townscape.  We stopped to get diesel and Porter did one of his many jobs on Patronus: fitting in small spaces.  Here he is in the aft lazarette, squeezing past the generator to get out the dock lines and fenders.

We had made arrangements to stay at Port Louis, a very nice marina in St. George’s.  We like to baby our batteries by giving them a full land-based charge once in a while and it had been a long time.  We scored a fantastic deal on the dockage fee.  Port Louis was hosting the Grenada Sailing Week Regatta that week, so if we entered the race, we got half off the dockage fees!  Sign us up!

But first we had to get into our slip.  The marina uses Mediterranean Moorings.  The main dock does not have small finger docks coming off of it and there are no pilings.  Instead, each “slip” has two cleats on the dock and a mooring ball anchored about 80 feet off the dock.  We had to back into our slip and tie off the stern to the cleats, while hooking two bow lines through the mooring ball and pulling them tight so we didn’t crash into the dock.  This was the first time Chris or I had ever encountered a Med. Mooring, so we were justifiably anxious.  Luckily, one of the guys from the marina staff roared up in his dinghy and helped us by passing our lines through the mooring and passing them up to me.  Then he gently nudged Patronus into place with his boat.  It was quite a scene, but we made it in.

All that excitement made us jittery, so we set out to find the Merry Baker (which has a liquor license?) and got some yummy treats.  Craig and I found the supermarket as well.  A stroll through the marina showed us that we would be living in style for the week: clean showers, laundry facilities, a mini-market, a swimming pool, little shops, and several restaurants and bars were all located in the cozy complex.

 

 

 

 

The regatta had already started when we arrived, so we went to the “Pirate”-themed race party that night.  The kids wore the pirate costumes that my dad and Kathy had bought them for their “Mutiny on the Patronus” skit on our passage.  We all had a great time and danced the night away.  We met British-American family who live on Grenada and our kids played with their kids all night.

 

The next morning, Chris entered race mode.  He started to prep the boat.  We laughed a lot comparing these preparations to the pre-race routines on the race boats we used to sail.  When Chris and I raced, we sailed on boats that were empty down below, to save on extra weight.  Each crew member could bring a small bag with only the absolute necessities.  For some regattas, we were weighed.  This week, we were racing our HOME and all the stuff in it: computers, food, bedding, toothbrushes, lots of heavy books, all our clothing, anchor chain, the liferaft, cushions, biminis, and a barbecue, to name just a few.  We left the dinghy back at the dock and we took our anchors off the boat, as they were not allowed for the race (anchors stick out off the bow and could do a lot of damage in a race collision, which happens more than you would imagine).

In the midst of getting the boat ready, finding the laundry lady, checking out the pool, and getting our propane tanks filled, Reese realized that her friendship bracelets were still on the beach.  Chris is an amazing dad and did not choose this moment to teach one of those difficult “life lessons” about “taking care of your stuff”.  We all knew how important those friendship bracelets were to her.  Several were from her friend Kelli at home and they help Reese feel connected to her.  One was the “sister” bracelet to the one she sent Kelli for Christmas.  So Chris, in the heat of the midday sun, put on his sneakers and took off for Prickly Bay.  Eight long, hot miles and three hours later, he returned with the bracelets.  At one point, he was exhausted from the heat.  Out of nowhere, a man yelled to him from the side of the road.  “Bless you, brother!”  Chris went over to him and luck had it that he was selling ice cold, fresh coconut water.  Chris says it came at just the right moment and he didn’t know what would have happened if he didn’t come across this nice man.  Reese was happy to be reunited with her bracelets and has another “my dad is a hero” story in her memory.

Saturday is Market Day on many islands.  The one in Grenada is not to be missed.  Grenada is known as the Spice Island for a reason.  This trip to the market was much like others we had taken.  First we had to find a spot to tie up the dinghy.  The produce markets are not usually in the nicest parts of town, so we had a long uphill walk up narrow, unknown streets.  We ran into a really nice fellow who showed us the way and walked with us all the way to the market.  He even stayed to make sure we knew the names of all the tropical produce.  Dominica had trained us well, and we were just as comfortable choosing callaloo, dasheen, star fruit and plantains as we were picking tomatoes and cabbage. The market was a sprawling, confusing mass of stalls, tents, alleys, and buildings, all connected to each other.

Wendy was on the hunt for a spice necklace, which is a string of multiple spices, fruit and seeds.  We didn’t have to look for long.  We bought a few and had visions of nutmeg-scented heads on our boats….  We looked at produce, bought some items, and finally found the area where all the spice merchants were set up.  What a scene!  It was just as you might imagine it.  There were tables and stalls piled to the ceiling with all kinds of spices: nutmeg, cinnamon, cloves, curry, and so much more.  In addition, vendors also sold hot sauces, essential oils, jewelry, rasta hats, and more.  The kids ran off and were on the verge of causing havoc while we perused the aisles and fended off the solicitations from the vendors.  One man followed us around, asking us to come to his bar for a drink.  It was 10am.  We felt bad, but we passed.  We purchased a few items from different people, to be fair, and then headed back to the boats.  For today, we had places to go, people to meet, and a schedule to keep!  Stay tuned for THE HASH!!!!!!