To give this country its full name, it is St Vincent and the
Grenadines. But as I write, we are passing St Vincent by.
We had mixed reports of Clifton, so our intention
was to complete the formalities and leave. But it is an attractive little
place. The busy harbour promised plenty of interest, and the
anchorage was sheltered if a little deep. When you've taken the trouble to
equip yourself with a hundred metres of chain you need to use it every so often,
so we were happy to drop the hook next to Kealoha and settle back away from the
reef and towards the fairway. The formalities were soon over, and the
Yacht Club beckoned. Soon our friends in Quasar V arrived, and what had
been an intention to move on faded away, particularly as Volker discovered he
needed to spend some time on the Internet to try and sort out his travel
arrangements. A relaxed afternoon led to the discovery of a bar on a tiny
sandbank. We repaired there for sundowners before gathering with the
Quarks for dinner back in the Yacht Club. Considering the number of yachts
crowded into the anchorage, it was surprisingly quiet, and our lively supper
next to the shark-pool could not have offended the other patrons!
We shopped for fresh fruit and bread early next
morning, and were a little surprised to see that Quasar V had departed ahead of
us - they are not noted for being early risers. We subsequently learned
that for them it had been a day of trouble in threes. Their mooring had
proved inadequate, their anchor windlass had finally given up the ghost and to
complete the day, they had touched a reef. But we up-anchored as planned,
and set off for the stunningly beautiful Tobago Cays (which of course are
nowhere near Tobago), where there was still plenty of space for us in the centre
of the deep lagoon. We snorkelled amongst the turtles, took an afternoon
nap, climbed to the top of one of the little islands and then entertained Luis
from Faraway to supper. And we even found time in between to visit for a
drink the nearby and magnificent Hylas 54, whose husband and wife crew had
befriended us in Petit St Vincent. Sadly Paul has a plane to catch, so
early next morning, after a brief swim and conquering the peak of another of the
little islands, we wriggled through the narrow, charter-boat infested channel
between the islands and out into the open sea. Bequia - the scene of an
epic New Year's Eve party back in 2005 - beckoned, a mere twenty five
miles away. Annamare and Chantelle were already moored when we arrived,
and once the paperwork was finished, we joined them for drinks and a happy
supper together in a water-side restaurant. And now, in another beautiful
Caribbean morning, we are heading for Vieux Port in St Lucia, which is handy for
the Airport and Paul's flight home tomorrow.
The Caribbean is a great cruising area, with
steady winds, sunshine and warmth during the day, pleasant evenings with
brilliant stars at night. The people are on the whole friendly and
welcoming, and the views are stunning. But the anchorages are now crowded
(it is really the high-season here), and you can no longer lose the sight
of the towns' bright orange street lights either shinning directly or reflected
off the clouds at night. We are nearly back where we started, and we are
looking forward to the triumph of completing our voyage. But already our
thoughts turn back to the vast emptiness of the Pacific and Indian
Oceans and their scattered little islands. We remember the tiny,
isolated communities of the Tuamatos, the magnificent beauty of the Marquesas
and Tahiti, cruising inside the Great Barrier Reef and the tumult and colour of
Bali. It is not going to be easy settling back into our old lives, and
some of us are not going to make it - everything else being equal, we will be
back out there before too long.
Meanwhile, all is well with us, and very best
wishes to you all.
James, Paul and Volker