We wait for Debby and Fraser to bring their stuff down to the boat and then all go off to pick up Russell from where he has stayed the night at True Blue. We drop Mike off on the way to deal with the parts for the wind generator (which stopped working after its unexpected meeting with a fishing line) and hope like mad that the alternator parts will arrive as they are supposed to some time this morning. We do the provisioning and pick Mike up on the way back to the boat.
Very soon after, workmen arrive and get the alternator working again, generating electricity once more. The wind generator blades will have to wait until we are safely in a marina once more as we don’t want to waste time doing them now.
Mike pays the marina bill and we let the lines go, off once more. The motor round to St George is a tad rough as we are heading into the wind and waves, but it’s bearable.
The sail the next day from Grenada to Union then on to Mayreau is not a particularly good one and the sea is quite rough, although sightings of dolphins make everyone forget about that for a while.
On Mayreau, the gang go ashore and meet Robert Righteous who insists on giving them a tour of his private dining room, all the while lamenting the passing of Steve Jobs (the founder of Apple). After a cocktail or two they return to the boat and we eat some of the wonderful tuna that they bought in Grenada. It is after dinner that I discover that Fraser is a wonderful masseur – and he gives the first mate a shoulder one for free. I make him promise to do this every evening. Aren’t some clients wonderful!!!?
On Friday we continue our passage to Bequia. When we arrive the gang go ashore to shop for food - they are looking for the ingredients for Russell’s tuna burgers and Fred’s ‘fauxtato’ salad. Both sound really good and they manage to get everything they need.
While we are waiting for them to return, we are approached by a local man and his daughter selling things. I hate it when these guys come over. I never want to buy the stuff – it is usually crappy trinkets and buying from one usually encourages a load of others to descend on the boat. But John seems different. Sitting with his daughter in a little wooden canoe with no outboard, he accepts Mike’s decline to shop and thanks him for being polite. When I emerge, I spot the most beautiful conch shell at the bottom of his boat – a king conch apparently – white with black stripes – and we agree a price. I don’t barter him down. He then asks if I have any spaghetti – he loves pasta apparently – and I happily give him a packet. All the while his daughter sits there quietly and I tell him that if he returns a bit later, I will sort some other things out for him, if that doesn’t offend him. They return an hour later by which time I have some food from my stores that we won’t get around to eating in the time we have left, along with a few articles of clothing. His daughter is all smiles as we hand the bag over.
Photo: John and his daughter
Both the tuna burgers and potato salad (‘fauxtato’ salad - so called because Fred makes it with breadfruit) are excellent. Thanks guys.
Before leaving, another shopping trip is made – Fred is hunting for shopping bags made out of old sacks that he has purchased here before. He finds them and although they had sounded a bit weird from his description, they are actually quite nice.
We have an eventful sail as there are dolphins jumping around us for a while and then Russell manages to catch a lovely mahi mahi with his hand line. As it thrashes around the cockpit spraying blood everywhere, I am very glad that we have Fraser to wash everything down. He is a very good little scrubber!
Photo: Russell with the catch of the day
Photo: Butchery on the grill of death – Russell style
Photo: The scrubber, Fraser, in action
We sail through the night – there are enough volunteers for doing a watch to make me redundant. It’s quite a rough old crossing to the Iles des Saintes although the strong winds mean that we cover most of it at about 8 knots and bring us marginally too close to a tanker, just 0.7 of a mile away.
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