St Vincent and the Grenadines, part 2

You already got a little preview in the previous blog, and today is our last day in this island group before we head back to Europe….. The Caribbean version, that is. But first, let’s rewind to mid-January, when we left Grenada…

From Carriacou (Grenada) it’s about a 3-hour sail to the first of the roughly 35 islands of St Vincent and the Grenadines: Union Island. It’s not far, so you can see it the whole way there. We have a good sail, fairly fickle because the wind does all sorts of things around the mountains. Even though we’re sailing in the lee of an island, the swell is still there; it simply wraps around the island.

Off Union Island there’s a small artificial island called Happy Island, made of conch shells, with a popular bar that you simply have to visit. With the help of Mr. Biggs we pick up a mooring right on its doorstep! We buy a lovely fresh tuna from him, which he fillets for us on the spot, so the sushi supplies have been replenished.

We clear in and stroll around the town of Clifton. There’s a relaxed bustle of little shops, bars and restaurants. In the evening we start with cocktails on Happy Island. We’d hoped to have dinner there as well, but you need to book that well in advance.

Two American couples we get chatting with invite us to join them (going Dutch, of course) for dinner at a restaurant where they’d had a wonderful lunch. The food was indeed very good and it was a fun evening.

One of the following days, while Kees is working on board, I visit the tourist office to plan an outing. A sweet young lady helps me, but the only things to do are either in the woods or beach and watersports related. All we really want is to go around the island and soak up the atmosphere. Renting a car isn’t really a thing here; the island is too small for that. “We can provide you with a mule,” the lady says. I’m a bit taken aback, already picturing Kees and me riding around the island on the back of a donkey. It turns out to be only slightly less bad: it’s a sort of golf cart, but with a petrol engine. So we get to enjoy the nature and the views amid the racket. The engine is just about powerful enough to get us up the hill, and we manage a nice little tour. Although some roads simply turn out to be dead ends. At the end of that one, though, we got a rather nice welcome:

We have lunch on the beach at Sparrow’s, a resort with a restaurant. The weather is rather rainy, and although the mule has a little fabric roof to shelter under, we return to Clifton fairly soaked. On the way we’d spotted a roti shack, where we pick up some delicious roti to eat on board.

Meanwhile some acquaintances from Suriname have arrived too. Martijn from Cruella has brought along some of the kids’ clothes that were left behind in Suriname in the rental car we’d hastily swapped for a bigger one. As a thank-you we treat him to drinks on Happy Island and then dinner in Clifton. Among the Dutch everybody knows everybody, so we end up having drinks with 5 boats and 9 people.

The other boats go back on board for dinner, but the men agree to hit the town later that evening. I have to nudge Kees a bit, but after dinner I leave him ashore with the other guys, and later, after a fun night out, he is ‘brought home’ by Martijn.

From Union Island we sail to the Tobago Cays, an uninhabited nature reserve made up of a few small islands, which is also a turtle sanctuary. You can tell how popular it is from the number of boats. We head for a spot a bit off the beaten track to get a quieter anchorage – for those in the know: north-east of Baradal, right next to Horseshoe Reef. You regularly see turtles swimming by, which is of course very special, but every time I think I can get a photo, they dive again.

A man called Teddy comes by to sell us a beach barbecue that’s put on on one of the little islands. We’d already heard about it, so we say we’ll come. Later he comes back to say that unfortunately he has to leave, but that we should ask for Elizabeth. At the time that didn’t seem important, we’d be able to eat there anyway, but it turns out to be quite a remarkable operation. After searching around in the dinghy for exactly where it is, we find it in the logical spot: where you can watch the sun go down. There are lots of boats anchored there too. On the beach, under some trees, is a whole row of barbecues. There are about 10 cooks, each selling food for themselves. The beach is full of picnic tables, which are assigned to a cook each time. Incoming boats are shared out in turn among the men in the little boats, and the people a man brings in go to the cook he works for, so you can’t choose whose food you eat. We have delicious lobster from cook Elizabeth, and the next day some tasty ribs, all with vegetables, rice and potatoes.

Snorkelling at Horseshoe Reef the next day, we see beautiful fish on the reef, and a ray even swims right underneath me, lovely to see it so close. We film with the 360 camera, but the videos are so big that we’ll have to wait until we’re in “French” territory, where we get 160GB of internet a month again.

The next island we head for is Mustique. We know it’s famous because lots of celebrities live there: Mick Jagger and Bryan Adams have houses there, and David Bowie lived on the island too in his lifetime. It was once bought by Colin Tennant, 3rd Baron Glenconner, who gave a piece of the island to Princess Margaret, who then had a villa built on it (if you’ve watched season 3 of The Crown, you’ll know all about it). These days it’s owned by a company that belongs to the residents. Officially there are 500 inhabitants, but we think they’re mainly staff of the homeowners. Just try looking up renting a ‘cottage’ on Mustique: it usually comes with about 10 staff who live on the estate.

The residents aren’t too keen on nosy parkers, so you’re kindly asked to behave accordingly. There’s a neat dock where we can tie up, though our dinghy is nothing compared to the tenders of some of the yachts anchored there. Merrimac is actually just a small boat. But the swimming in the bay is lovely and every now and then a turtle swims past. Once again we’re neatly in the front row; those in the know can spot us in the webcam photo…

There’s one supermarket, a bakery, a liquor store, a clothes shop and a souvenir shop with some clothing. Everyone you see shopping is wearing the uniform of the yacht or estate they work for. In the boutique you only see personal shoppers, and I don’t feel entirely at home. A square centimetre of fabric they call a bikini costs 595 US dollars; sadly it wasn’t my size.

On Mustique our neighbour has trouble with his outboard, so Kees offers to take the 6 Norwegian ladies ashore. He then goes over for a chat with the American skipper, who has 12 Norwegians on board this week. He even lends the skipper his spark plug wrench (which of course he just happens to keep in the dinghy!). But even after 10 minutes of hanging around and some subtle hints, no beer is offered. Not even a thank-you for ferrying the ladies ashore… who, by the way, were of course very happy with Kees!

Basil’s Bar ashore is hosting the famous Mustique Blues Festival. We’re anchored pretty close, so we can hear it perfectly well, but one evening we go there for dinner and get to experience it up close. Great music, and for the first time in ages we’re in a room where the majority is white. Strange folk, white people, haha. It had a funny atmosphere, with “locals”, “luxury staff”, “yachties” like us and even a few tables of “superyachties”, including an Italian party right next to us – on the Champagne, naturally! Kees even thinks he spots Jeff Bezos dancing, but it probably wasn’t him.

After Mustique came Bequia, which I already told you a bit about in the previous post. It’s a very big bay and we’re anchored fairly far in. But once again right in front of the music festival. Since I wanted to hear the steel drums with the kids, Kees dropped me off on the beach and went off to work himself. After Kees picked me up from the beach again, we take the dinghy to Number One, a square floating platform in the middle of the anchorage with a bar on it. You can tie up your dinghy, and water taxis run from the shore too, so it’s not just boat people. We meet some English people who live on the island and have family visiting, and some Irish builders who are building holiday homes on another island, Canouan, and have been given a week off. We’d happened to sail past it and it strikes us as a dreary place – sort of Belgian-coast-style development – with nothing to do for the time being. Still, if you can’t afford Mustique or don’t make it past the vetting committee, it might be an option.

In the evening we eat at a restaurant someone at the festival had recommended. The lady who runs it has a reading club for the local kids; every day after school they can come and read at her place, as extra tutoring or just because they enjoy it.

The next day, while Kees is working again, I go shopping at the local fruit and veg market. There are several stalls and they all have roughly the same stuff, but I spread my shopping over a few of them and have nice chats with the vendors. At last I can buy avocados again!

Yesterday we finally arrived at the main island, St Vincent. We wanted to anchor in a little bay called ‘Blue Lagoon’, but it was already pretty full and we didn’t find it as idyllic as it sounded: poor holding, old moorings with mostly past-their-sell-by-date boats on them. Besides, Brooke Shields was nowhere to be seen. We moved a little further on, to Young Island, where there’s a resort; we’re practically on their beach on one side and the mainland on the other. The little ferry shuttles back and forth with guests and staff. It’s a nice spot and we’re comfortably on a mooring. The shore is close by, so we have lunch at a restaurant on the mainland and take the bus to the capital, Kingstown. The centre is a bustle of stalls and shops, all very easygoing. When we head back, the schools have just let out, so the roadside is packed with schoolchildren and teachers, all in uniform, waiting for the bus home.

Today Kees has a conference call with the Netherlands, so it was an early start (6 o’clock). The weather has turned a bit; we now get regular showers.