Thursday, May 31
Eight years ago when we got married in St. Lucia, we purchased
a courtesy flag for the island. Today, feeling immensely proud
of achieving our goal, we raise the somewhat worn flag on
our halyard. Then, since we haven't been ashore in five days,
we enjoy a restaurant meal and do some grocery shopping.
At the marina, we meet Vision, a Rastafarian who wears a
red sneaker on his port foot and a green sneaker on his starboard
foot. He gives us a business card identifying himself as an
entrepreneur who performs various boat services. The Rastas
have a dubious reputation in the islands, known primarily
for their enjoyment of ganja and inclination to earn their
living by doing as little as possible. Certainly the religion
has not been well-served by unsavory characters who adopt
the look without practicing the creed. Vision, although a
bit bleary-eyed, seems like a nice fellow. Later, when Vision
dinghies alongside our boat, Dakota barks aggressively at
him as he does all visitors. Vision seems perplexed by Dakota's
rejection, "But I'm a Rasta man," he explains to
Dakota as if that would make our yappy canine shut up, pass
him a joint, and contemplate their mutual "downpression"
by "Babylon" (the white man).
Friday, June 1
Tonight is the "jump up," a street party and barbecue
celebrated each Friday night in Gros Islet on the north side
of Rodney Bay. Unfortunately, crime is a problem in this small,
poor community so we take a taxi there and back rather than
walk the short distance or risk leaving our dinghy on their
dock. At the marina taxi stand we meet Linus, who gives us
a ride and offers his services as a tour guide. We're the
first tourists (white people) to arrive in town, so we find
a table at a bar and watch as the locals prepare for the big
party. Tantalizing smoke from the barbecue grills drifts down
the street peaking our appetites. Soon the town is full of
tourists, locals, and stray dogs--all enjoying the delicious
barbecue. We're a little disappointed that there's no live
music, just DJ tunes, but we have an enjoyable evening and
return to the boat and sleep soundly with full bellies.
Saturday, June 2
Our friends Rick and Terry ("Hoop") are arriving
today. We're excited to receive our first guests in the Caribbean
and anxiously monitor their flight status on the American
Airlines Web site.
During the day, we learn that Receta has arrived in
the anchorage. Ann and Steve are famous among cruisers since
the publication of Ann's book An Embarrassment of Mangoes.
Her entertaining story of their two-year Caribbean sabbatical
is enhanced by yummy local recipes that Ann collected during
their voyage. We dinghy over to Receta with our copy
of the book. A face I recognize from the book jacket emerges
from the boat and asks us to wait just a minute. Of course,
Ann is chopping up some vegetables for what is undoubtedly
a wonderful dish to be included in her next book. She and
Steve chat for awhile and are just as friendly and nice as
they seemed in the book.
We beach the dinghy at Spinnakers in time for happy hour
and wait anxiously for Rick and Terry's arrival. Soon we spot
them: Rick now sporting glasses and Terry with long, curly
locks. We have a nice supper and make plans for the remainder
of the week. They're staying at the Windjammer Resort, but
if the weather permits they'll join us onboard for a trip
to the Pitons later in the week.
Sunday, June 3
Today is the opening ceremony for St. Lucia's Carnival, so
our plan is to meet Rick and Terry at the Windjammer and then
take a taxi to Castries. From the marina, we catch a bus that
deposits us at a road leading to the Windjammer. One mile
ahead, the sign says. It's a long hot walk, but soon we encounter
a young girl selling beer out of a cooler--ahh, so refreshing!
As we continue our sweaty trek down the blacktop, we're amazed
to hear Alan Jackson singing "Pop a top again."
The unlikely source of this familiar song is a small bar--an
unexpected oasis of beer and country music on a hot island
road. Nick can't resist going inside since his first beer
is now empty. He buys a local brew from a friendly fellow
with a missing front tooth. With a sway in our step, we head
back down the road as the country tune fades away.
Francis, our taxi driver, seems skeptical that the four white
tourists in his van are really up for doing Carnival. The
event is being held at a park in a seedy part of town, but
from our vantage point all we see is a street crowded with
locals and a ticket booth with a long line. Nick and I aren't
concerned about being a shining white spot in the dark crowd,
but Francis thinks it will be hard to find a taxi later when
the streets are blocked. So we follow his suggestion to stop
instead at the Green Parrot restaurant at the top of the hill
over the park. We arrive at an empty restaurant with a spectacular
view. After drinks, Francis takes us on the scenic route back
to Rodney Bay.
Monday, June 4
On our previous trips to St. Lucia by airplane (nothing goes
to windward like a 747), we took a taxi from the airport on
the north side of the island to the Pitons on the south side.
The trip down the narrow mountain road, which we made at night,
was an hour and a half of nauseating hairpin turns. Today,
we're doing an island tour with Linus and we'll finally see
the view we missed before. As Linus drives us south past Castries
and into the countryside, we're amazed at the beauty of the
island. The road winds along the coast and through the lush
mountains where soaring peaks tower over fertile valleys of
banana crops. St. Lucia, in our opinion, is the most beautiful
island in the Caribbean. After stops at the waterfall and
drive-through volcano, we reach our lunch destination: the
Dasheene Restaurant at the Ladera Resort. The resort is perched
on the hillside between the Pitons and offers a breathtaking
view of Jalousie Bay. What a thrill to return someplace and
find it even more beautiful than you remember.
Tuesday, June 5
Rick and Terry are enjoying the amenities at the Windjammer
today, while we prepare the boat for guests and do some shopping.
There's a brand new Caribbean Cinema outside Castries and
we're told Pirates of the Caribbean is showing there.
We haven't been able to find the movie schedule, so we decide
to take a chance and ride the bus there after completing our
chores. When we arrive around 3:00 P.M., we learn that the
movies don't start until evening and Pirates of the Caribbean
isn't even showing. So we take the bus back to Rodney Bay
and walk to The Lime, a local restaurant we've been wanting
to visit. But as it turns out, The Lime is closed on Tuesday.
Another strikeout. So we head back to the boat for cold beer
and enjoy the rasta pie that Vision gave us earlier today.
It's like a vegetarian empanada and despite our suspicions,
we never get the munchies.
Wednesday, June 6
Rick and Terry arrive on the boat around 9:00 A.M. with their
one soft bag (good job, guys). We sail out of Rodney Bay with
a northeast wind to push us south. Downwind! We never sail
downwind--how do you do that?
Flash back for a moment to Texas and my dreary gray work
cubicle brightened by colorful vacation pictures. Taped to
my typing stand was a postcard of the Pitons. Dreams of sailing
back to the Pitons helped me endure the mind-numbing daily
routine. Now switch to the present. The dream comes true today!
We approach Jalousie Bay between the Pitons as the Ipod plays
our wedding song, "I Could Not Ask for More" from
the Message in a Bottle soundtrack. Eight years ago
on our honeymoon as we sailed our charter boat back to St.
Lucia, I tossed my wedding flowers overboard as an offering
to Poseidon for a safe passage back someday. As thanks for
our successful voyage, I stand at our bow and make a similar
offering today.
"These are the moments I thank God that I'm alive. These
are the moments I'll remember all my life. I've found all
I've waited for and I could not ask for more." The music
fills the air.
I think of the sacrifices we made these past eight years
so we could arrive here today: the beautiful home we sold,
the tiny apartment we lived in to save money, the old cars
we drove, and the vacations we didn't take. I toss a heart-shaped
anthurium lily over the starboard side. The bow wake whisks
it away across sparkling water.
"These are the moments I know heaven must exist. These
are the moments I know all I need is this. I have all I've
waited for and I could not ask for more."
With some pain, I recall the George Town accident, the frustration
and discomfort endured during many boat repairs, the fear
that clutched my heart when heavy seas pounded the boat during
a night passage, and the challenges of learning new roles
and living with your mate 24/7. A golden heliconia soars through
the air.
With tears brimming in my eyes, I think of the family and
friends we've left behind so we could follow this dream. I
toss a red ginger lily over the port side; it slowly sinks
to the depths of the turquoise bay.
"Every prayer has been answered. Every dream I have
has come true. Right here in this moment is right where I'm
meant to be, here with you here with me."
Smiling, I think of new friends we've made, dolphins playing
on our bow wake, pristine beaches, star-filled nights, and
even swimming pigs. I toss the last flower toward the majestic
Pitons. We have returned to this special place; we have fulfilled
our dream. We could not ask for more.
After a dinner of fresh dorado onboard the boat, Rick and
Terry are mesmerized by the thick carpet of stars scattered
across the night sky. The towering Pitons seem to touch the
stars. They'll remember this night the next time they hear
that classic sailing song: "When you see the Southern
Cross for the first time, you'll understand now why you came
this way." And while Nick and I are impressed too, there's
a party happening at The Bang on shore. We leave our guests
to enjoy their romantic evening and arrive at the party too
late to see the fire show, but in time for the island dancing
and skits. At the end of the performance, the dancers bring
the guests out to gyrate in the stiff way that white folks
dance. One of the girls asks me to dance with her. "Now
down, now in and out, slow, slow, OK fast, faster now!"
she directs me while my heart pounds and my thighs burn in
agony. I do my best, but I'm pretty sure I was not born with
the same pelvic joints as my limber partner. As Nick and I
leave the restaurant, we pass some older local women. "Great
job, girl, great job!" says one of the smiling women.
I laugh and thank her for acknowledging my unworthy effort.
Thursday, June 7
Despite listening to the mooring ball pound the hull all
night, Rick and Terry are willing to spend another night on
the boat. We decide to sail up to Anse Cochon for more snorkeling
(the snorkeling at the base of Petit Piton was quite good
yesterday). Rain squalls are forming over the island and we
have a wet motor trip to Anse Cochon. Among a convergence
of four boat boys, we pick up a mooring ball. Nick refuses
to pay them to hand him a pendant, but we buy a coconut and
a trinket. One dreadlocked guy says he can clean our boat
bottom in an hour by free diving. His fee is $50EC and a shot
of rum. After an hour, Nick hands him a small bottle of Brugal
and gets in the water to check out the work. The fellow hasn't
accomplished much at all. While Nick works on the starboard
side, the Rasta guy continues diving only to resurface every
20 seconds gasping and sputtering. Finally, Nick hands over
the money and tells the guy that his work wasn't good. "That's
what you get for half price" the guy retorts and paddles
away on his surfboard. Since it's still raining and chilly,
no one wants to snorkel. We drop the mooring and head back
to Rodney Bay where the sky is clearing. We have a nice steak
dinner onboard and sleep better on the anchor.
Friday, June 8
Twelve of us squeeze into Linus' van for the short trip to
Gros Islet. Tonight is the jump-up and also Rick and Terry's
last night in St. Lucia. We're joined by Adventure Bound,
Magic Moment, Sol Magique, and Temptress.
Tonight Nick and I try the beef kabobs. The texture of the
meat is similar to liver so the stray dogs get most of it.
We later learn the kabobs are kidney--yuck! I guess you can't
make assumptions about meat in the islands. In the grocery
store, meat is labeled "beef carcass." How appetizing
is that? Rick and Terry give us a beautiful original painting
of the Pitons with sailboats in the foreground. We're sad
to see them go and hope they'll visit again.
Saturday, June 9
The weather is sunny today, so the usual crowd meets at Pigeon
Island for the hike to Fort Rodney. There are two steep peaks
to climb, and we're sweaty and exhausted by the time we drag
into the Jambe De Bois restaurant for drinks. After returning
to the boat, I take a nap while Nick continues the job of
scrubbing the boat bottom. In the evening, we all regroup
at the marina on the dock by Magic Moment for karaoke
and guitar playing. A nice day.
Sunday, June 10
Rainy morning; lazy afternoon.
Monday, June 11
After talking to our weather router, Chris Parker, we decide
to leave before dawn tomorrow for the 70-mile trip to Bequia.
Canadian boats Adventure Bound and Sol Magique
will be our buddy boats. Nick spends the morning jerry-jugging
75 gallons of diesel to the boat, and then we make a run to
the supermarket. We go to bed early but are too excited to
get much sleep.
Tuesday, June 12
At 3:15 A.M. we motor out of the sleepy anchorage on our
way to Bequia. As we motorsail in the lee of the island, several
rain squalls pass over us. These are the typical early-morning
squalls that normally wake us from a sound sleep to close
hatches. After the squalls, a rainbow appears on the western
horizon. "Against all odds, we'll end up sittin' on a
rainbow," I sing a line from our favorite corny John
Prine love song. A little later, as we pass the Pitons, a
pod of dolphin rush up to our bow to surf on our wake. Nick
and I run forward to cheer them on. One dolphin does a somersault,
splashing us as he lands. Then another slaps his tail, splashing
us again. We laugh and squeal with delight. After a few minutes,
they disappear as quickly as they came. A rainbow and dolphin:
what a lovely good-bye from our favorite island. We'll see
you next season, St. Lucia.
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Nick raises the St. Lucian courtesy flag
that we bought on our honeymoon eight years ago.
Gregory the boat boy sells fresh fruits and
vegetables.
View of Castries from the Green Parrot restaurant
Terry and Rick
We paid a buck to photograph this Rastafarian
and his snake.
The Pitons
The Soufriere volcano is still smoking.
Petit Piton viewed from the Ladera Resort
Town of Soufriere
Approaching the Pitons
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