Thursday therapy.
We love to swim around islands. It’s adventurous, and you never see the same thing twice. Today’s island was Petit Rameau, in the Tobago Cays. It’s got a couple of beaches and scrubby vegetation, and is surrounded by a reef. I suggested we swim counter-clockwise, so that the first part of the swim would be into the sun and into the wind, with the opposite of that on the other side. This worked out pretty well. Along the way, we saw southern rays, purple sea anemone, parrot fish, and cute little trunk fish with kissy lips. As we rounded the last corner, John and I had the group take a wide turn around a reef that had surf breaking on it. As we did, a pretty strong head current slowed our progress. Our boat was only about 150 yards away, but as we stopped and looked at the bottom, we could see that we were getting pushed away from the boat pretty quickly. A challenge! John and I encouraged everyone to swim though it, giving 20 hard strokes at a time. It took about 10 minutes to break out of the current, and we gathered at the stern, exhausted but exhilarated.
Heather and Monica had their own current adventure on the west side of the island which started with a close encounter with a turtle, progressed to Heather towing Monica a few hundred yards against another stiff current until they got to the beach where they had a sit down and a walk up closer to the boat before swimming again.
While we were out fighting the current, the new propellor was delivered! Jason managed to put it on even in the strong pull of the tide. Hero!
There’s a lot to do today, so Jason yanked the hook and we headed to Union Island, where we’d check out of the country of St. Vincent at the customs office here (Union Island is within the country of St. Vincent). Union Island was hit by a category 5 hurricane earlier this summer, and as we pulled into the harbor, the damage was evident. We split into 2 groups to swim inside the big lagoon created by the surrounding reefs, and saw some giant porcupine fish under the island bar/restaurant piers that had been severely damaged in the storm.
Almost every inhabited island with a harbor in the Caribbean has a number of small boats that collect mooring ball fees, sell ice, drinks, lobster, fish, collect trash, pretty much anything you need while cruising. Union Island has just one of these remaining, a small wood dory named Therapy. Its captain is J.J., a young man who has spent his entire life on Union Island. I asked him about how he and his island were doing. He said he and most of the islanders are still in tents. Many of them are sick from bacterial infections. The island lost about 60% of its population just before and in the days after the storm, and he J.J. fears they will never come back. He said he was promised help from the government to fix his boat, which was in splinters, and his outboard engine, which was also battered in the storm. That help never happened, so he rebuilt the boat himself and patched the motor together with epoxy, duct tape, and wire. There is no economy to speak of. His Uncle died during the storm when part of the roof structure hit him in his chest. His Aunt and Cousins are still grieving and will not return to the area. J.J.’s house was completely blown away, leaving only a concrete foundation. The island had only 2 telephone poles remaining after the storm. The electrical grid is being rebuilt now, but it will be years before this island recovers.
We happily overpaid J.J. for some watermelon, limes, and ice, and filled up a bag with extra food from our galley. He motored away, waving goodbye, back to the island to try to piece his life and community back together. You can donate to relief efforts here: https://crisisrelief.un.org/hurricane-beryl-appeal.
We sailed past Carriacou, one of my favorite islands in the Caribbean. This place was also heavily damaged in the hurricane, but we will return someday with a boat full of guests. With the island blocking the wind, it was smooth sailing, and we ate a lunch of sandwiches, chicken thighs, and salads on paper plates, knowing that we’d break all the dishes trying to wash them once we hit the open sea.
A 2-hour sail brought us to Isle de Ronde, an uninhabited Island in this chain called the Grenadines, this one belonging to Grenada. Our third swim of the day was shared with some sea lice, unwelcome companions to swimmers. No worries, I whipped up a batch of painkiller cocktails as we applied a poultice of baking soda and vinegar to our stings (think mosquito bites). Maya prepared a wonderful Paella, with options for veg only, seafood only, chorizo only, or the works. Yes, please. Key lime pie for dessert. Uncle. I’m heading up to the top deck with a sheet and a pillow, where I’ll spend some time thinking about J.J. and his plight.
Hopper