Top Ten Ways To Experience Bequia

1. “They kill each other. I’m dealing with some mad men.” –Brother King

Brother King’s second bath was in the sea.  He has been in the water ever since.  Now an older man, he is full of stories to tell and has found a passion to round out a life on the waters of Bequia (beck’ way).  He used to be a free diver, able to go down to 80 feet.  By the time he was an adult, he had ear problems and went to see a doctor on St. Vincent.  The doctor told him he spent so much time under water he had coral growing in his ears.  This is one interesting guy.

Our little tour group (Patronus and Anything Goes) had ventured across Bequia to visit the Old Hegg Turtle Sanctuary, located on the northeast part of the island.  Brother King resides over the property like a mother hen.  He built the sanctuary with his own hands and has spent his own money and time in an effort to protect the baby Hawksbill turtles of his beloved island.

By the time he retired from skin diving in the mid 90’s, the Hawksbill turtle numbers had dwindled.  The turtles are hunted for their meat, eggs, and beautiful shells.  Today, Brother King hatches up to 180 eggs at a time and attempts to rear them until they are able to be released back into the sea.  Over 2,000 turtles have been released to date.  Oh!  Are you wondering about that quote at the start of the post?  At one point, we asked why some of the baby turtles were kept in separate tanks.  He deadpanned, “They kill each other! I’m dealing with some mad men.”

On his website, http://turtles.bequia.net/, Brother King says, “My project involves monitoring beaches, checking nests, trying to protect mother turtles and eggs from poachers, collecting hatchlings, and taking them to my sanctuary to keep them safe during the most vulnerable years of their life. Outreach to our island youth regarding this fascinating species is also an important part of the sanctuary’s mission.

 

 

 

I keep the turtles in my sea-water ponds, feeding them on canned tuna for six months. Then they are fed small fish (sardines, etc.) until they are 3 years old (14 inches long) at which time they are released into the ocean. This gives them a better chance to survive, and instead of one from one thousand reaching maturity, this project will help repopulate the ocean sooner with about fifty from one hundred.”

When he is not tending to his little friends, he speaks to visitors like us.  We were entertained by his stories of a lifetime on the island of Bequia.  We were moved to see a man with such a passion for making a difference.  It was so clear how much he loved these little sea animals.  One handicapped turtle is his pet.  She would not survive in the ocean.  When Brother King calls to her, she swims right up to him and pushes her head under his hand for a nuzzle.  I found myself hoping that I would find my “turtles” someday so that I could throw myself into a worthy cause and make My Big Difference in the world.

 

2. “Do you think we’re a bunch of monkeys?”

Our experience on Bequia didn’t start out this well.  Not five minutes after stepping on land, Wendy and I were walking along the quaint road that runs along the waterfront.  I snapped photos and we peeked into the different shops and admired the local crafts being sold by the street vendors.  I looked across the street and a scene caught my eye.  I raised my camera to take a picture of a small fishing boat, which was up on the hard (sitting on land).  The boat sat under the shade of the trees with the beach and the harbor in the background.

As I took the picture, a man sitting next to the boat starting screaming at me.  From across the road!  I looked at Wendy and asked her what he was saying.  He was clearly upset at me and I figured it must be because I took a picture of his boat.  I walked up to him to talk about it.  There were about 8 more young men liming under the trees with him.  He yelled that I can’t take his picture and that us tourists just think we can take pictures of people like they were in a zoo.  Or something to that effect.  I apologized immediately and agreed with him that one shouldn’t take pictures of people without their consent, but I explained that I was taking a picture of the boat and the harbor, not of him (full disclosure: I was aiming at the boat and the harbor, but there is a chance that he and other people ended up in the shot.  Also, I have broken the rule of asking permission to take someone’s picture a few times on this trip, when time was of the essence or we were driving through a town.  Also, this rule doesn’t apply when taking pictures at a public event like a parade where taking pictures is expected.  So there.).

He continued to rant as if he hadn’t heard what I just said.  I interrupted him. “I said I apologize.  And the picture was not of you.”  He actually said, “Do you think we’re a bunch of monkeys?!”  I might have been worried about our safety but I noticed out of the corner of my eye that his friends were all laughing at him (plus Wendy and I are tough cookies and can totally take care of ourselves).  One of them piped in and said, “Leave her alone.  She wasn’t taking a picture of you.  And she apologized!”

Now he started in on such a convoluted story that I decided to stay and shut this thing down (My, how very compassionate and Buddhist of you, Erica!).  He said, “What if my wife was up on that hill and she was looking for me?  And she thought I was working?  And you went up that hill and showed her the picture of me sitting under this tree doin’ nothing?  Then I’d be in big trouble!”  Ignoring the obvious lapse in logic, I planted my feet on the ground, looked him right in the eye, and with a cheeky smile, said, “If you’re hiding out from your wife and not working when you’re supposed to be, you’ve got much bigger problems than someone taking your picture.”  His friends erupted in laughter and slapped their thighs, whooping, “Doh!  She got you!  She got you!”

Wendy and I turned and walked away.  The friends were yelling, “Come back!  Don’t pay no bother with him.  Where you from?  He drunk!  What you doing later?” but we kept walking.  I was a bit shaken up.  I was upset that in five minutes on this new island, we had already been made to feel unwelcome.  But then Wendy told me she was proud of me.  Later, when recounting Photo-Gate to the guys, I was able to laugh.  I was surprised that in a group of 8 big, tough looking guys, I felt no fear in walking right up to them and standing my ground.  The net result of this experience is that I still look back on it and smile, knowing that I can be strong when the situation calls for it.

3. “Vi tycker om din batik boutique.” (We like your batik boutique.)

The rest of our Bequia adventure was much less dramatic.  We enjoyed the little shops in town, especially the handmade batik store, which is owned by a Swedish woman.  I tried to speak to her in Swedish, but she didn’t have much patience for my low skill level.

We found a cute little sandwich shop that sold fresh bread as well as a homemade ice cream shop!  Perhaps the find that excited us the most was Doris’.  We found this little supermarket on a back street and were blown away by the amount and variety of food that Doris, a short and sweet Indian woman, was able to stock.  Well, now that we’ve been in the Caribbean so long, it doesn’t take much of a food store to impress us.  The fact that they had lettuce AND cheese AND chocolate chips was enough for us to start breathing heavily.

We also found the best book store we had seen since the United States.  It has lots of Caribbean literature, maps, and guidebooks.  I purchased Language Arts books that are used in Caribbean schools.  The stories, language, and cultural references are all very Caribbean (ex. “Lydia took a sack of bananas to the market on Saturday.).  I got them for each of the kids to use in boatschooling and they love the stories, poetry, and folktales.

4.  “Every twenty minutes on the Appalachian Trail, Katz and I walked farther than the average American walks in a week. For 93 percent of all trips outside the home, for whatever distance or whatever purpose, Americans now get in a car. On average, the total walking of an American these days – that’s walking of all types: from car to office, from office to car, around the supermarket and shopping malls – adds up to 1.4 miles a week…That’s ridiculous.” ― Bill Bryson, A Walk in the Woods: Rediscovering America on the Appalachian Trail. (Okay, now I’m just forcing you to read quotes by my new favorite author.  At least it has to do with hiking.  But it’s a stretch, so I’ll include this one about the history of whaling:)

 “American whale oil lit the world. It was used in the production of soap, textiles, leather, paints, and varnishes, and it lubricated the tools and machines that drove the Industrial Revolution. The baleen cut from the mouths of whales shaped the course of feminine fashion by putting the hoop in hooped skirts and giving form to stomach-tightening and chest-crushing corsets. Spermaceti, the waxy substance from the heads of sperm whales, produced the brightest- and cleanest-burning candles the world has ever known, while ambergris, a byproduct of irritation in a sperm whale’s bowel, gave perfumes great staying power and was worth its weight in gold.” ― Eric Jay Dolin, Leviathan: The History of Whaling in America

 

In a burst of energy, Wendy and I decided to take a hike with the kids “over the hill” to Friendship Beach.  We wanted to see where the whales are taken when one is caught.  Bequia has long been an island whose livelihood and food depended on whaling.  Bequians abide by an international agreement that allows them to kill two whales a year for food to be consumed on the island.  The whalers are part of a long line of men who use traditional methods of harpooning.  We had hoped to maybe talk to a whaler to better understand this culture, which is very different from our own.

Our guidebook, as always, promised that the walk to Friendship Bay was totally doable.  But alas, we were hot and miserable by the time we got to the arrowed sign that said, “Friendship Bay”, so we decided to take a bus back to town and get ice cream instead.  Frankly, everyone was happier that way!  (And no need to feel guilty about it.  We walk way farther than 1.4 miles a week!)

5. “Cruising is fixing your boat in exotic places.” – Co Webb

Chris and Craig were busy for almost two days trying to fix our outboard engine.  We were so grateful to have Anything Goes with us!  Craig ran Chris in and out to town to buy parts and tools with which to fix the engine.  Without it, this Bequia post would be a bunch of pictures showing us rowing back and forth to town.

 

6. “There are no positive quotes about newspapers.” –Erica Conway

While shopping in town, Wendy and I came upon the headquarters for the Caribbean Compass, a newspaper for cruisers in the Caribbean.  We knocked on the door and introduced ourselves.  We had a lovely chat with Tom and Sally about what is involved in publishing a newspaper.  We left with plans to submit writing pieces by the kids to be published in their “Kid’s Corner”.  Later that month, we were excited to see that we had made it into the paper when the results from Grenada Sailing Week were published!

7. Startswithclay (the name of my friend Christina’s company.  http://www.etsy.com/shop/StartswithClay?ref=seller_info)

We also found a pottery studio that had been recommended.  We apologetically traipsed our group of ten into this cute little studio on the hillside, overlooking the water.  We met Maggie, who was a little startled by our arrival but very gracious and willing to give us a tour of her studio.  She is also a painter and we admired her work.  We especially loved a boat she had made for a client and tried to convince her to make one for us and ship it to the US, but she said it would never get there in one piece.  We obviously couldn’t take one on the boat, even if she had one ready to sell.  We’re still trying to figure out how to get one (hint to my potter friend Christina….)

 

8. Relax!

Which brings us back to Brother King and his turtle sanctuary.  We left the pottery studio and went to see the turtles.  Afterwards, we walked along the beach and stopped in at a resort for a drink.  We let the kids play on the beach, even though it seemed like a very quiet and laid back place that probably didn’t need six kids tearing it up.  The kids were great, though, and we enjoyed sitting at the bar in the gorgeous lobby.  We took a hundred pictures of the driftwood and shell chandeliers that we hope to make someday.  We strolled out to the beach and relaxed in lounge chairs.  Wendy and I had a whole 10 minutes without interruptions from the kids, so we finally exchanged life stories with each other quickly before the opportunity evaporated.

 

9. “It’s hard to believe in coincidence, but it’s even harder to believe in anything else.” – John Green

Back at the harbor, the s/v Harvey Gamage was anchored nearby.  We had anchored next to this school ship in Portland, Maine as well.  What a coincidence!  We managed to score a tour on board and met the captain, the cook, some teachers, and the students.  High school students can spend a semester at sea, learning traditional subjects in addition to learning the art of sailing a traditional boat.

As we spoke to one of the teachers, we discovered yet another coincidence.  When we were in Spruce Point, Maine, we had trouble finding a place to dock our dinghy.  We went all around the harbor and finally found the docks for Outward Bound.  We walked up to the main building and asked the woman there for permission to dock our dinghy for the evening.  That woman was the teacher on the Harvey Gamage in Bequia!  Really.  This world is just completely amazing.

 

 

10. “If you truly love Nature, you will find beauty everywhere.” –Vincent Van Gogh

Another way to experience Bequia is to just open your eyes.  Park your dinghy, take a walk, and enjoy the vistas that surprise you around every corner.  It’s no wonder that this little island is a favorite amongst cruisers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“There are many points on the Compass Rose.  I had to locate the few that were meant for me and head for those that summoned me with a passion, for they were the ones that gave meaning to my life.”

– Richard Bode, First You Have To Row A Little Boat

The Tobago Cays is a group of five uninhabited tiny islands that was plunked here in the Caribbean in the middle of Grenada and St. Vincent.  You can barely see them on most maps.  Many people have never heard of them.  But for this year-long journey, I may never have seen them.  But my inner Compass Rose had led us here and we will never be the same.

Entering the cays between the reefs was challenging and required VPR (Visual Piloting Rules).  This means that the charts are helpful, but you need to use eyeball navigation to make sure you are aware of coral heads and shallow sand bars.  We found a good place to anchor and sat back to gaze around at the five islands around us.

We made fresh pumpkin-mango muffins for breakfast the next morning and then headed over to Petit Bateau (Island #1) to check out the most popular of the five Tobago Cays.  We met a woman named Bethel, who lives on Union Island.  Her daughter Dimali goes to Stephanie Browne Primary School and was one of the lovely young girls who played with our kids after we worked on the library.  Bethel sells t-shirts on the beach and hosts lobster cookouts while her husband, Free Willy, goes lobstering on his boat.  The kids played on the beach while Chris and I listened to Bethel’s life story, which took us from Trinidad to Canada and back to the Grenadines.  It was a lovely connection that we will never forget.

The next morning, Porter was feeling achy and tired so he and I snuggled together until he felt better.  Bryson and Reese did schoolwork and by lunchtime, we were all ready for Island #2.  We took the dinghy to Petit Tabac and had a picnic lunch with Anything Goes.  We had so much fun that we returned the next day.  The kids ran off to build a fort beneath the trees while we sat on the beach, snorkeled, read books, chatted, and enjoyed the view.  Wendy and I took a little walk around the tiny island.  Bryson climbed a palm tree and got coconuts for us all.  Craig and Chris set to work with machetes and knives to open them for us to drink.

 

It was all very Robinson Crusoe (which by the way was written in 1719 and was originally titled: The Life and Strange Surprizing Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, of York, Mariner: Who lived Eight and Twenty Years, all alone in an un-inhabited Island on the Coast of America, near the Mouth of the Great River of Oroonoque; Having been cast on Shore by Shipwreck, wherein all the Men perished but himself. With An Account how he was at last as strangely deliver’d by Pirates. (sic)  How awesome is that?)  To top off the drama, romance, and intrigue of the day, we had landed our dinghies on the exact spot on the beach where Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann were stranded in the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie.  It was the scene where Elizabeth sets fire to Jack’s stash of rum.

Over the course of our visit, we all visited pretty Baradel (Island #3).  The water around the island is roped off as a sanctuary for turtles.  We snorkeled there and swam with so many big sea turtles that it was impossible to count them all.  I never tire of watching them graze along the sea bottom and then gracefully glide to the surface for air.  We stayed far enough away to enjoy their presence without bothering them, grateful for the opportunity to witness their beautiful existence.

The next day we enjoyed the beauty of our surroundings while going about our everyday business of schoolwork, cleaning the boat, and cooking.  One of the boat boys delivered fresh banana bread to us in the morning.  In the afternoon, we moved to a calmer anchorage next to Petit Rameau (Island #4).

We dinghied in that night to enjoy a beach barbecue with Bethel and her daughters Dimali and Talisia.  Free Willy supplied the lobsters.  It was a magical night, with the full moon rising between the palm trees as we danced, ate, and drank on the beach.

 

 

 

 

Not ready to have the night end, we put the kids to bed and enjoyed an adult full moon party by skinnydipping off our boats and swimming to the nearby beach.  No pictures of that scene….

The next morning, we had planned to leave for Bequia, but we just couldn’t bring ourselves to leave this beautiful paradise.  I was so very glad, for the lingering perfectionist in me would not have left happily had I not managed to step foot on the fifth and final Tobago Cay: Jamesby.  We headed over and played for the afternoon after washing the dinghy and the transom, and having lobster leftovers for lunch!  The Tobago Cays had taken a special place in our hearts.  No words or pictures could capture our time here.  If you ever have the chance, please go and enjoy it!