Our Last Days In Grenada

November 28, 2017May 12, 2018 / kk42sealife / 2 Comments

By the end of September, Howard was well on the mend, so we felt ok about going home. We first said another goodbye, this time to our friends Nick and Lori-Anne, who were flying back to the U.S. Parting ways with friends is definitely one of the worst parts about cruising.

As I mentioned, it was Scott’s first visit back to the U.S. in two years. Once the boat was settled in a slip at Port Louis Marina, we flew home and ran him around like mad, spending time with family, visiting friends, old neighbors and the gang at Hendersons Marina.

Scott arrived back to a very needy cat. Howard had a hard time in our absence, and consequently, so did our incredibly great friends who fed him while we were both away. In addition to the weeks in and out of the clinic, we haven’t left Howard for more than two nights since we first brought him home. He was glad to see his Dad.

I stayed on for several more weeks at home, spending more time with friends, and stuffing myself with fresh produce! All of these fall veggies are available to us in the Caribbean, but they’re just not the same quality.

I spent time with my sister and brother-in-law, in their neighborhood of Eastport, just across Spa Creek from Annapolis, where many of the houses were decked out for Halloween.

I was also lucky enough to be home for the 20th annual “Slaughter Across the Water,” a tug-of-war match stretching between downtown Annapolis and the Eastport peninsula; that’s a tug, across the water.

The “friendly” competition began in 1998, when the residents of Eastport got fed up with a Public Works Department project that closed the bridge leading into Eastport from Annapolis. Over “a couple of pints and a some scribblings on cocktail napkins,” the Maritime Republic of Eastport was born. The newly-born MRE then proposed a tug-of-war to the townspeople of Annapolis, and a yearly tradition began.

Every year since, on the first Saturday in November, an 1,800-foot rope, half solid yellow and half yellow and black, is spooled out across Spa Creek, and carefully piled onto the deck of a boat that marks the center line. (Not being able to be on both sides of the tug, or on the water, I borrowed some online photos)

Competitors pulled in seven different match-ups, with money raised going to local charities and philanthropic causes; this year’s Slaughter Across The Water resulted in a Eastport taking the event, winning four out of the seven tugs. The event has become a day-long festival with music, crafts and a chili cook-off.

In mid November, I flew back to Grenada. Scott had moved Sea Life from the marina, and was now out in the anchorage off of St. Georges harbour. Once I had unpacked, we planned a short visit to Petite St. Vincent, one of Grenada’s nearby out islands, before clearing out of the country to head north.

We mad a last minute grocery run to Foodland, located on the carenage. Conveniently, they have a dinghy dock right across the street.

As I mentioned earlier, produce can be challenging in the Caribbean. Check out these tiny heads of cauliflower and cabbage, that Scott can comfortably hold in one hand. The cabbage is marked in Eastern Caribbean dollars, which equals roughly $1.20 usd.

We headed back to the boat, to unload our groceries. As we drove away, something strange caught our eye just beside the dock. We had walked right by this man, asleep across the rocks.

The next day we made the short trip over to Petite St. Vincent. I’d come back with a “travel bed” for Howard. The soft sides allow him to snuggle in, and keep him from moving less while we’re underway. It was a warm day, so a cold sports towel was in order.

Before long, we arrived at Petite St. Vincent, a private island with an exclusive resort.

The water colors were gorgeous, and we were able to anchor off to ourselves, not having had this much room around us in months. We soon had a visit from a yellow footed booby, who spent some down time on one of the paravanes.

The next day, we set off in the dinghy to explore the coastline, and get a peak at the resort, which spread’s out across the island.

Back at our anchorage, we now had a neighbor…a rather large neighbor.

Eager for some more clear water time, Scott took the dinghy out for some snorkeling and underwater exploration. Spear fishing was illegal in the area, but he couldn’t resist the urge for dinner when he came across some lobster. He bashed the poor things to death with the dinghy oar (hence, not using a spear or “official” fishing device), bringing back a speckled and a slipper lobster. Slipper lobsters are creepy, and look like giant pill bugs.

The entire island of Petite St. Vincent is private, but lowly cruisers are allowed to visit the resort’s beach bar, so we cleaned ourselves up and headed to shore for cocktails. We relaxed and enjoyed our drinks, looking back at Sea Life, with her big buddy, out at anchor.

At $15.00 usd a cocktail, one round was all our budget could afford, so we headed back as the sun began to set.

The next morning, we would head for Carriacou, Grenada’s nearest out island, to clear out. It was time to head north. First stop, the Grendine Islands. Here are more photos of our last days on Grenada.

“Shells Sink, Dreams Float. Life’s Good On Our Boat!”

Cruising Life On Grenada

September 16, 2017May 12, 2018 / kk42sealife / Leave a comment

Spending four months of hurricane season in Grenada allowed us a chance to really get a feel for the island, and all it had to offer. Howard settled right in, seeming to know that we were going to linger for awhile. He enjoyed cockpit naps and “laundry” naps, kept an eye out for fish and happily dried the ice machine when it was through running.

Every inch of the anchorages in Grenada’s southern bays were full of cruisers. Most were here for hurricane season, but there were also many who stay year round. The boat yards were equally as crowded, as some owners hauled out to have work done, and others traveled home.

With so many cruisers on the island, there were endless options to fill time. At any given day, you could opt for yoga, tai chi, dominoes or poker. We were moored in Prickly Bay, and the marina there hosted free movie nights, Friday evening steel drum and dance bands and their famous Bingo night.

Just a short walk from Prickly Bay, the West Indies Beer Company hosted a weekly open jam night, that was always well attended. The music was always great…singing, not always as good, but a fun evening out just the same.

Houses of all shapes, colors and styles lined the hills around us, and Budget Marine (the Eastern Caribbean’s answer to West Marine) was just a shorty dinghy ride away. Scott was eager to peruse the shelves, but came away with sticker shock; the EC is much pricier than the western side!

From Budget Marine’s dinghy dock, it was an easy walk to the Container Park, a food truck complex of sorts, with containers housing various food choices instead of trucks. The group of hodgepodge containers offered paninis, coffee drinks, ice cream, burgers, Thai and Mexican food and many other options. We enjoyed brunch and bloody marys with friends, and visited during evening hours as well.

St. Georges University is located just down the road, and as a result, many small bars, restaurants and food stands line the street leading to the Container Park.

There were many shopping options for us on Grenada. Not far away was an Ace Hardware, and also CK’s, a bulk grocery store. Further down the road was Spiceland Mall, which housed a home goods-type store, a large IGA grocery store, as well as other shops and a small eatery.

Which leads me to how we get to said stores…the local buses. On Grenada, as on many Caribbean islands, public buses are actually mini vans, and 90 cents USD, will get you a ride anywhere on the island. In addition to the driver, each bus has a “conductor.” This person sits behind the passenger, near the sliding side door, and it’s his job to fill the bus and collect money, while the driver drives.

Buses in Grenada are privately owned, and have interesting names that are proudly displayed across the windshield: Humble Thy Self, Scare Dem, Nothing Yet, etc. The more fares they can squeeze in, the more money they’ll make, so conductors constantly scan the roadsides for possible passengers (There are bus stops throughout the island, but unlike the U.S., passengers can get on and off at will). With keen eagle eyes, they’ll noticing you long before you even come near a bus stop, or start to look for a bus; don’t’ worry about catching a bus on Grenada, it’ll “catch” you.

With half their body hanging out the open side door, conductors will whistle, or call out “Bus, Bus, Bus!!” to get your attention. At times, we were only going a short distance, and chose to walk instead of ride, having to politely wave off the many honks and shouts to get on board. On a particularly cloudy day, after waived off our I-don’t-know-how-many-ith bus, the driver responded: Sure?…..it’s gonna rae-een!

In order to pick up as many passengers as possible, buses often deviate from their set route. A bus will often detour up into to hillside neighborhood, or back up a side street to pick up a fare; sudden, sharp braking is regular, and so is backing up….on main roads. While the buses race to try and get as many fares on board as possible, it does not diminish their politeness. They will patiently wait for a passenger, no matter the age, to to get on the bus, even backing up to shorten the walk. Local children ride the buses to and from school, and conductors will see them safely to the far side of the street when getting off.

A bus inGrenada is a 14 passenger mini van, with an additional row of fold-down, jump seats. They make full use of every inch of interior space, stuffing us in like sardines. People are expected to sit on the gap between the permanent seat and the jump seat (not comfy), and also on a fold-down seat between the driver and passenger. We’ve also seen people sit next to the sliding door, facing backwards, on a hump that extends out from under the passenger seat.

And air conditioning?? The driver most often runs it for himself, while the rest of us gasp for any breeze that comes in through the open windows (I borrowed these bus photos online, as I was always too hot, crammed in or holding on for dear life to think about my camera). Reggae or dance music is played at vibrating decibels, perhaps to try and distract you from the heat.

Whatever you’re carrying with you cannot take up valuable seat space. Shopping bags are jammed in front of you on the floor, stacked up to your nose if necessary. This proposed quite a problem for Scott, as the distance to the back of the seat in front of him was so short, he had to ride with his knees to his chest.

A knock on the tin roof or side wall of the bus signals that you want to get off. This request is relayed by the conductor, because there’s no way for the driver to hear your knock over the volume of the rolling dance party. Once your signal is received, the bus may jerk to a stop, let you off further down the road…or at the next bus stop. The sardine can-packed bus will, more often than not, have to unload like clowns at the circus to let you off, before reloading and continuing on.

As I have mentioned before, local Grenadians were the most incredibly friendly and welcoming people we’ve interacted with on our entire adventure to date. They appreciated the cruisers’ presence on the island, and the business opportunities that it afforded…in a positive way. Instead of trying to take advantage of the boaters, they truly wanted us to enjoy their island, including and mingling with the cruisers at bars, restaurants, events and gatherings.

This is especially true for a group of bus drivers who play a huge part in providing cruisers with transportation for specific needs and special events. Like the buses, these drivers all use colorful nicknames, such as Shademan and Christ Child. Five days a week, these men offer shopping buses, making pickups at the various marinas, and then stopping at Ace Hardware, CK’s Discount Store, an ATM machine and the IGA.

Shademan is amazing with the cruisers. He’s on the net every morning, announcing what trips or services are offered for that day, and the rest of the week. We rode with him to see the pan orchestra practice, and costume making, and he also ferried us back and forth to the various parades during carnival.

Shademan also offers a Saturday shopping bus that goes into St. Georges, for the weekly market. We hopped on one Saturday, interested to see the market, and a bit of downtown. Our first stop was the Merry Baker, located on the grounds of the Port Louis Marina. We were either too early, or too late, as the shelves were nearly empty. However, being one of the first ones out of the van, I managed to get the last loaf of ciabatta bread…score one for me!

It was a clear, blue-sky morning, and the buildings across the bay were bright and colorful, as we made our way around the carenage.

We arrived downtown, where Shademan dropped us off for 90 minutes of shopping. The open market and many street stalls covered several blocks.

In addition to stalls, many people had set up shop on the sidewalks, or along the side of the road, selling produce and other goods.

We came across a man selling fresh coconut water, who was very popular…and handy with a machete! Waiting patiently, behind piles of coconuts, people brought along their own bottles and jugs for filling.

In addition to the many planned events and gatherings, we made our own fun. A group of us who were moored in Prickly Bay decided to do a dinghy bar crawl, visiting places in the nearby bays around the corner.

Nimrods rum shop was especially fun. In addition to rum and beer, this tiny bar also sold fresh bread, boxed milk and some local vegetables…a one stop shop!

We ended our crawl at Le Phare Bleu, sponsor of the dinghy concert we attended. The really cool-looking Lightship Bar was closed, so we opted for drinks in restaurant.

After a fun day with friends, Scott and I headed back to Prickly Bay, wanting to get around the corner and out of open water, while there was still some light left.

We sadly said goodbye to our Aussie friends, Mark and Deb, who left us just after Carnival. They had their catamaran, Kefi, hauled out for two months, and were headed home to Australia for a visit. Upon their return, they would head for the Western Caribbean, and the Panama Canal, while we planned to head north.

From our mooring in Prickly Bay, we had decent views of the solar eclipse in August, and even though the anchorage was crowded, sunrises and clear, white, puffy cloud days were still scenic.

So that’s a peek into cruiser life on Grenada. Here are more photos.

“Shells Sink, Dreams Float. Life’s Good On Our Boat!”

Playing Carnival In Grenada

August 20, 2017May 12, 2018 / kk42sealife / 2 Comments

When late August rolls around, it means carnival time on Grenada. After attending a pan practice, and seeing the colorful parade costumes being made, we were excited for the celebration to begin, and to attend some of the events.

Carnival was introduced to Trinidad by French settlers in 1783. Banned from the masquerade balls of the French, slaves would stage their own mini-carnivals in their backyards. They used their own rituals and folklore, but also imitated and sometimes mocked their masters’ behavior at masquerade balls.

As Grenada’s largest cultural event, carnival is celebrated as a public holiday. Called Spicemas, the ten-day celebration includes event such as “Pree Day,” (a soca reggae show), competitions for the best steel pan band at Panorama, bikini cruises, all-white attire parties and the highlight of the celebration, Carnival Monday and Tuesday. Attending events or participating is referred to as “Playing Carnival,” and we were ready to bring on the play!

The first event of Carnival Monday was J’ouvert (pronounced joo-vay), and began before dawn. Participants, known as “Jab Jabs,” gather on the street that runs along the carenage (or bay) in St. Georges, covered in paint and/or motor oil (yep, motor oil…used motor oil), and parade through the streets. The celebration continues through sunrise, lasting into the late morning. I’d definitely heard of carnival parades, but this J’ouvert thing was new to me, so I did some digging.

In some of the French-based creole languages of the Caribbean, J’ouvert means “dawn” or “daybreak”. The origins of the street party come from the emancipation of slavery in 1838, which provided Africans with the opportunity to not only participate in Carnival, but to embrace it as an expression of their newfound freedom.

It is believed that some J’ouvert traditions are in remembrance of civil disturbances in Port of Spain, Trinidad, when people smeared themselves with oil or paint to avoid being recognized. The original “Jab Jabs” were thought of as devils. They wore very little clothes, horned helmets, were covered in black from head to toe, with a tail, and their tongue dyed red.

Hmmm, we didn’t know what to make of this event. Unsure of a Carnival street party in the dark, with people covered in paint and used oil, we polled long-time cruisers in the area for information, as well as cruising friends who’d been to Grenada before. They all endorsed J’ouvert, saying it was not to be missed, but told us to wear clothes that we didn’t mind throwing away afterward. What were we in for??

With peaked interest and cautious excitement, we gathered with friends at Prickly Bay Marina…at 4am, and loaded into a van that would take us to the downtown street party. As we approached St. Georges in the dark, groups of oil-coated figures lined the streets, making their way to the carenage area, chanting and rattling chains; there was no turning back now.

The van dropped us off, just as there was enough light to see, and we made our way down to the main street – straight into the oily crowd.

We decided that “liquid courage” was a good idea, and turned to find the nearest bar. Armed with drinks, we walked our white, oil and paint-free bodies into the crowd…let the games begin!

As the sun began to rise, we were able to get a more clear view of our surroundings. The crowd was full of men, women and children of all ages, making their way up and down the street. They were covered in paint, oil and even chocolate, with many wearing shower caps to protect their hair (quite a look!). People, black with oil, held onto chains as they snaked through the crowd, while others stopped to dance in the street.

Along the way, there were “oil stations,” trucks and carts with buckets, jugs and drums of oil available, in case you needed “freshening up.” As the morning progressed, we smeared ourselves with muck along the way. Scott found some people doling out paint, and decided to add some color to his oil.

Tractor trailers, stacked high with huge speakers acted as “bands,” blaring out music, with deejays entertaining the crowd from overhead.

Now I can safely say that an event like this would be drastically different in the U.S., full of stumbling drunks, fights, fights and more fights, with an occasional stabbing or shooting thrown in for good measure. Here, drinking was secondary to dancing and laughing, and the street was a sea of oily, friendly, happy people.

Back at our liquid courage starting point, we met up with our friends who had scattered throughout the crowd. From the bar above the street, we had a good view of the oily crowd.

Pick up time was approaching, so we made our way back to meet the van. It arrived, interior covered in plastic (smart man), and when our group of cruiser Jab Jabs were all present and accounted for, we climbed in and headed back to the anchorage.

Now I’m not one for nude bathing in public, but there was no way we were going to risk getting paint and motor oil inside the boat, or even in the cockpit, so Scott and I tied up the dinghy, stripped off our clothes, threw them on the swim platform and hit the water to get as much oil and paint off as possible before stepping foot on board. We quickly shoved some food in our mouths, and hit the bed; it was 9am, and we were exhausted. Round two was just around the corner, Monday Night Mas that same evening, so a big nap was in order.

We later learned that locals cover their bodies in shortening before the J’ouvert celebration. The kitchen staple becomes a Jab Jab’s best friend, acting as a primer for the skin before the oil, and making removing the stuff easier afterward…..a tidbit that would have been great to know ahead of time, as my arms itched for days afterward!

Here are some video scenes of our J’ouvert morning:

Carnival Monday ends with Monday Night Mas, a street “jump up” that begins well after dark, and continues until the wee hours of Tuesday morning. The parade is made up of “bands,” groups of people wearing brightly colored t shirts and waving fluorescent wands, who dance down the street behind trucks of huge speakers. The trusty van dropped us off just before 8pm, and we secured a spot at our J’ouvert bar, to wait for the parade to begin.

As usual, this event was on “island time,” and the parade didn’t start until after 9:30. We could clearly hear music thumping from the many trucks of speakers, long before the parade arrived. In the distance, a glow of color appeared across the carenage, and before long, a sea of fluid, vivid color flooded the street. Sadly, my camera is terrible at night, so I borrowed some online photos of the colorful parade.

You could pay for a shirt and lighted wand, and march in the parade, we chose to just be spectators, knowing our stamina most likely wouldn’t make it to the end of the street party.

Things were just getting into full swing, when it was time to meet the van for pick up, but we enjoyed our time watching the colorful display of light and sound. It was just as well, we were still dragging from our J’ouvert party the night before, and still had one more day of play ahead of us.

Spicemas concludes in a big way, with Carnival Tuesday’s Pretty Mas, a costumed parade where fancy, feathered masqueraders fill the street. This is where the costumes that we’d seen being constructed would be unveiled, full of color and texture. Again, you can pay to have a costume made, and join in the parade. This was very tempting for me…not so much for Scott. Lucky for him, the cost was out of our budget, and we were again happy spectators.

We arrived downtown in the mid-afternoon, and waited in the Grenada August heat for the parade to begin. It wasn’t long before the first wave of colorful costumes came into view.

Each group was lead by a member wearing an especially ornate costume, in same color and theme of those that followed behind.

There were many children in costume as well, who seemed to be old pros at this Carnival thing.

Trucks of all shapes and sizes made their way down the street. The “bands” blared music that thumped in our chests, while mobile bars quenched the thirsty.

Surrounded by music from the many trucks, the paraders danced their way down the street.

Even this woman on the sidelines, in her 90s, couldn’t resist the music.

The ornate costumes were adorned with feathers, beads, sequins and lace, each one more beautiful as the next.

Many costumes symbolized Grenada’s plants and spices, such as sugar cane and nutmeg.

A group appeared, who were much different than the rest of the costumed crowd. They looked almost clown-like, with small mirrored pieces covering their costumes, webbed masks and bells around their ankles.

We learned that these men are referred to as Shortknee, and the mirrors function essentially as talismans, “protecting” the wearer by reflecting his enemies.

The Shortknees don’t have a band truck to follow, so they make music by a rhythmic stomping of their ankle-belled feet (the little bells are called “wooloes”), while chanting songs that are meant to “out” individuals who have offended the community’s moral codes. Shortknees reprimand in song, and express approval in showers of talcum powder. They must have approved the hell out of us, as the cloud of powder was so thick, we could taste it.

As it got dark, we headed back to what was now our “home” Carnival bar, where the music and dancing of Pretty Mas was still in full swing on the street outside.

Inspired, our friend Di learned some moves from some of the locals who shared our viewing area.

Our trusty van arrived to take us home, and again we arrived back on board Sea Life ready to collapse into bed; this playing Carnival really takes it out of you! The non-stop events of the past few days were a whirlwind of oil, lights, feathers and fun. We had a ball with our friends, as well as the friendly and inclusive local people. Spicemas was definitely a highlight of our stay in Grenada.

Here are video scenes from the very pretty, Pretty Mas:

And many, many more photos, of our time playing Carnival, in Grenada.

“Shells Sink, Dreams Float. Life’s Good On Our Boat!”

Our Grenada Island Tour With Cutty

July 27, 2017May 12, 2018 / kk42sealife / Leave a comment

Scott and I try to see and learn as much about our surroundings as possible in each location we visit. On Grenada, cruisers raved about seeing the island with Cutty’s Tours. We were told that Cutty, a local Grenadian, is full of knowledge about the island’s history, culture, animals and plants, so when there was an opening in one of his tours, we jumped at it. Settle in…we saw a lot and learned much.

First, a quick bit of island history…

Christopher Columbus sighted Grenada in 1498, during his third voyage
to the Americas. However, it wasn’t until 1609, that English tobacco planters attempted to settle the island; within a year, most were killed by the Carib Indians. Forty years later, the French purchased the island from the Carib, for a few hatchets, some glass beads and two bottles of brandy (not a bad deal!).

As you might imagine, not all of the Carib were pleased with the deal, and skirmishes continued until the French chased the last of the Indians to the northern end of the island. Rather than submit to the colonists, the remaining Carib, men, women and children, jumped to their deaths from the island’s cliffs.

Like many Caribbean islands, control of Grenada shifted back and forth between France and Britain, until France seceded the island to the British under the Treaty of Paris, in 1783.

Grenada received its independence on February 7th, 1974. By 1979, the state of the island’s politics had become a concern to American officials, when the leftist Maurice Bishop seized power and began to develop close relations with Cuba. In 1983, another Marxist, Bernard Coard, had Bishop assassinated and took control of the government. Protesters clashed with the new government, violence escalated and in little more than a week, Grenada’s government was overthrown.

There were nearly 1,000 Americans in Grenada at the time, many of them students at the island’s medical school. Citing concerns for danger to these citizens, and fears of a repeat of the Iran Hostage Crisis, President Ronald Reagan ordered nearly 2,000 U.S. troops to Grenada. They soon found themselves facing opposition from Grenadian armed forces, and groups of Cuban military engineers, who were on there to repair and expand the island’s airport.

The fact that U.S. forces had to rely on minimal intelligence about the situation, and about the island, didn’t help matters (maps used by many of them were, in fact, old tourist maps of the island!) As a result, Reagan ordered in more troops, and by the time the fighting was done (in a matter of weeks), nearly 6,000 U.S. troops were in Grenada. Nearly 20 of these troops were killed and over a hundred wounded; over 60 Grenadian and Cuban troops were killed.

The invasion resulted in the appointment of an interim government, followed by democratic elections in 1984 (The country has remained a democratic nation since that time). Grenadians appreciated the fact that there had been relatively few civilian casualties, as well as the return to democratic elections. The date of the invasion is now a national holiday on the island, called Thanksgiving Day, which commemorates the freeing, after the invasion, of several political prisoners, who were later elected into office.

On to the island sights, sounds and smells…

The volcanic, mountainous island of Grenada, with its many rivers and waterfalls, was formed as an underwater volcano approximately 2 million years ago. Six smaller islands at the southern end of the Grenadines island chain belong to the island as well. Here’s a good image of the island, that I found online:

Being on the southern edge of the hurricane belt, Grenada has suffered only three hurricanes in fifty years: Janet in 1958, Ivan in 2004 and Emily in 2005. Here are some images of Spice Island Marine, located near us in Prickly Bay, before and after hurricane Ivan.

Known as the “Spice Island,” Grenada is a leading producer of many spices: cinnamon, clove, ginger, mace, allspice, orange/citrus peels, and especially nutmeg. They are all important exports for the island, and provide twenty percent of the world’s supply. In addition, Grenada is the world’s second largest producer of nutmeg exporters, after Indonesia.

We began our tour with a view down to the harbour at St. Georges, and it wasn’t long before Cutty pulled the van over, to root in the roadside plants and trees. We all waited near the van, as Cutty showed us juvenile coffee beans, cinnamon bark, turmeric, bay leaves and grapefruit.

Our first stop was Annandale Falls, one of Grenada’s many waterfalls. Located just steps from the main road, we made our way to the viewing deck, passing wild cilantro along the way (three long leaves, at center of photo). Some of the locals put on quite a show, jumping into the water below the falls, from the rocks above.

Next, we made our way into the rain forest, and Grand Etang National Park. This area of the island receives a whopping 160 inches of rain a year, in contrast to 45 inches in the lower elevations. In addition to views of a volcanic crater lake (a naturally water-filled crater, of one of Grenada’s extinct volcanoes), we were here in hopes of seeing the Mona monkeys who live in the area.

Our Aussie friends, Mark and Deb were also on the tour with us, and we all patiently waited while Cutty called out to the monkeys. It wasn’t long before they came into view, and he soon coaxed them out from the edge of the treeline.

The Mona monkeys are thought to have first come to Grenada in the 18th Century, on ships coming from Ghana, and are now mostly seen in the island’s interior. Like hamsters and chipmunks, the Mona store food in their cheeks. They are vegetarians, eating mainly fruit, but will sometimes opt for a tasty looking insect or a lush leaf.,…which there are no shortage of in Grenada.

Scott, Howard and I had plenty of up-close-and-personal time with the monkeys in Roatan, but “monkey business” never gets old.

Back on the road, Cutty again pulled over, rummaged in a nearby tree and emerged with nutmeg. Opening the outer shell revealed the nutmeg seed within. It’s red, lacy outer covering is dried to produce the spice mace.

Next, we stopped at the home of Denis Noel, and his home on the 300 acre Balthazar Estate.

We visited briefly, and discovered that he’d led quite an interesting life. Inside, the walls were lined with photos of Noel with foreign dignitaries from all over the world, during his time as Grenada’s Minister of Foreign Affairs.

After leaving politics, Noel diversified operations of the family estate. He packaged and marketed herbal tea from lemongrass, and was the first Grenadian to cultivate the noni plant and market noni juice. The noni fruit smells terrible, but has countless medicinal benefits.

You can read more about this incredibly healthy, but stinky fruit here.

In the year 2000, he released Nut-Med, a pain-relief spray, combining nutmeg with conventional analgesics. It became internationally famous, and was registered with the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) of the United States.

As a young man, Noel was a member of the Grenadian Ministry of Agriculture, and flowers from the Balthazar Estate earned six gold medal awards over a ten year period, at the prestigious Chelsea Flower Show in England. The estate is currently Grenada’s largest producer of cut flowers, and the table inside the house was full of beautiful wrapped bouquets.

As we walked back to Cutty’s van, there was a whiff of chocolate in the air. I followed my nose to a nearby building, and discovered the Grenada Cocoa Association.

Inside the open doors, bags filled with cocoa beans were piled high. It was a delicious smell, but as I snapped these photos, we were not so politely told to leave. No bother, I’d gotten a snoot-full of chocolate smell, and was happy to evacuate the building.

Keeping with the chocolate theme, our next stop was the Grenada Chocolate Factory.

The company was founded in 1999, by two men who had the idea of creating an Organic Cocoa Farmers’ and Chocolate-Makers’ Cooperative. The chocolate is produced in a tiny Caribbean house, and is made from organic beans grown by local island farmers who are all shareholders in the company, and who earn well over twice the going rate for their beans. The local, fresh beans are used, rather than those that have been shipped half way around the world, and might be months or even years old.

Because small batch chocolate-making is extremely rare, the company had to create many of their own processing methods, designing special small scale machines and refurbishing antique equipment to meet the requirements of their unique situation. Most of the machines were designed in the early 1900’s, in a time when quality had precedence over quantity in the world of chocolate-making. Many of the machines were also reconfigured to be powered by solar energy.

Having stocked up on chocolate bars, we continued on to Belmont Estate. The first Grenadians of East Indian descent to own an estate on the island purchased the property in 1944 (Only Europeans owned agricultural estates at that time), and it is still in the family as a fully operational, agricultural property.

The property houses a restaurant, several gift shops, a small museum and a farm with many different animals and plants. In addition, Belmont has their own chocolate production on site.

We wandered the grounds, passing vanilla beans, noni fruit, guava, passion fruit (which we learned is an invasive vine), and several mud-caked turtles, some who seemed to be quite nimble walkers.

On our way out we stopped into the museum, where Cutty talked about the island’s various fruits, nuts and spices on display.

Traveling along Grenada’s lush and scenic roads, Cutty pointed out large barrels outside some of the island’s homes. He told us that they are used to ship items to friends and family in Grenada, from other countries. From November 1st, until December 31st, the barrels ship duty-free from the U.S. and Canada, as long as they contain clothes, food and toys…ho, ho, ho!

Our lunch spot was a scenic restaurant at the River Antoine Estate, producers of Rivers Rum. We enjoyed a buffet of local foods, and views of the estate’s lush, tropical grounds, on the edge of the Caribbean Sea.

With full bellies and renewed energy, it was time for rum! “Rivers Rum,” as it’s referred to on the island, is still made almost exactly as it was back in the 1700’s, in the same place and on much of the same equipment.

Central to the entire process of manufacturing at Rivers Rum is a water wheel, dating back to the 1800s. Fed by a nearby river, the wheel has been crushing cane for hundred’s of years, making River Antoine the oldest functioning water-driven distillery in the Caribbean. Being mechanically inclined, both Mark and Scott were fascinated by the huge, antique wheel and it’s workings.

No machines or pumps are used here. Piles of sugar cane are hand-fed up a wooden chute, and crushed by the water wheel-powered grinder.

The fresh-squeezed juice flows down a wooden sliding gate to the boiling house, where it is filtered (by hand) to remove bits of cane, stirred (by hand) and brought to a boil in cast-iron pots over a fire that is stoked by dried cane stalks and wood, which explains the massive piles of stalks around the crushing area.

The juice is then ladled from pot to pot (by hand), which thickens the sweet liquid. Tempering lime is added to help separate unwanted impurities and aid fermentation.

After boiling for a few hours, the thickened liquid is ladled (by hand) into another gate/chute that directs it to cement fermentation tanks. Without the addition of yeast, the boiled cane juice takes about eight days to ferment. Once all of the sugar has been converted to alcohol, it is drained from the concrete tanks into a pot still below. In the final step, it’s pumped (by hand) into bottles held near a pipe.

Daily production only yields about 35 gallons, which is far less than the demand. The resulting raw rum to be bottled as Rivers Royale is 75% alcohol by volume, and this overproof rum is the strongest we’ve found in our Caribbean travels (on the right, below). It’s alcohol content is too high for visitors to carry home by plane, as it’s considered a combustible liquid! As a result, Rivers began producing a “tourist-friendly” rum, coming in under the wire, at 69% (on the left).

The tour ended at an open pavilion, offering samples of the clear rum that was most likely distilled just the day before, if not that morning. We were welcome to “drink all you like,” and soon discovered why. The clear “fire-water” offered to us in tiny cups smelled like lighter fluid, and didn’t get past my lips.

Scott, on the other hand, finished his fire sample handily, explaining to the group how to properly taste the stuff: first take a breath, drink the rum and then exhale (apparently, drinking moonshine has its advantages). He then happily went back for seconds…I’m fairly certain he was the only one.

We were nearing the end of our tour, and our heads were spinning with all that we’d seen and heard. In addition to the many fruits, spices and trees mentioned, Cutty also pointed out clove, almonds, tamarind, avocados, lemongrass, cherries, cocoa pods, jasmine, ylang-ylang and several types of apples and mangoes (the island has 200 species of mango).

Here are more interesting tidbits that we learned from Cutty:

The Caribbean Argo Company imports wheat from Canada and the U.S. They produce flour and ship it throughout Caribbean.

During the U.S. invasion of Grenada, in 1983, the U.S. accidentally bombed a mental hospital…oops! President Regan approved funds to build a new one.

Michael Jackson’s infamous doctor, Conrad Murry, was born on Grenada.

Children on Grenada are required to go to school from 6-14 years of age.

Many countries have funded projects in Grenada:

Canada provided money for a medical center; China built many homes, and also paid for a new cricket stadium. At the stadium’s opening, the anthem of Taiwan was accidentally played, and the band leader was fired; Venezuela gave Grenada $16.5 million in grant funding for projects, such as prefab housing, and the redevelopment of the St. George’s Market; Japan has given the island money, in exchange for voting in favor of whaling at United Nations meetings.

The soursup fruit contains calcium, iron, magnesium, potassium and phosphorus, and is also a source of vitamins C and A.

Soursup grows naturally in Grenada, and the U.S. is paying the island to grow it for use in cancer research.

We came away from our day-long tour with a true appreciation for Grenada’s beauty, and all that the island provides her people. Here are more photos of our island tour with Cutty.

“Shells Sink, Dreams Float. Life’s Good On Our Boat!”

Our Final Push To Grenada

July 12, 2017May 12, 2018 / kk42sealife / 1 Comment

After an easy overnight, we approached Carriacou (pronounced Carri-a-coo) just after dawn. The island belongs to Grenada, and we planned to clear into the country here.

As usual, there were interesting sights along the way: interesting rock islands, and a waterfront house that caught Scott’s eye.

In the early morning hours, we made the turn into Tyrell Bay anchorage. The large bay was full of boats, boats and more boats…I counted 82! We definitely weren’t in Kansas (aka, the Western Caribbean) anymore.

Once we were anchored, Scott made his way over to nearby Tyrell Bay Marina, where the customs and immigration offices were located. He arrived just as they were scheduled to open, but there was no sign of the customs officer. Thirty minutes later, the young officer showed up, and let Scott and several other cruisers inside.

Apparently, he’d been at a party the night before, not getting home until the wee hours, and consequently had a late morning start. Scott, having learned much patience with customs and immigration in the Western Caribbean, just smiled, nodded and waited to be called on. There is an online service in place for several of the Eastern Caribbean islands, called Sea Clear. Clearance forms can be complete online before arriving, saving time when in the office. Customs officials like it, as they spend much less time deciphering handwriting.

Not all cruisers use this service, and end up having to fill out the lengthy forms by hand before getting their turn. As a result, Scott has ruffled feathers more than once, by being waived to the front of the line. Sea Clear, and Scott’s patient attitude, has made for quick and friendly clearance on several Eastern Caribbean islands.

Back to Carriacou…the immigration officer must have been at the same party, and must have stayed even later, as he never showed up at all! Once the customs officer finished his paperwork, he did the immigration clearance for Scott as well, and we were official in Grenada.

To celebrate, we headed to shore for lunch at the Lazy Turtle. In addition to other items, pizza was on the menu, and was billed the “best in the Caribbean.”

The pizza was far from the best in the Caribbean, but it fit the bill for lunch, and views back out at the crowded anchorage were good. Soon, the afternoon sun had us changing locations, over to some funky, wooden tables in the shade. After lunch, we spent time wandering the island a bit, then returned to Sea Life for an early night.

The next morning, we raised anchor and continued toward Grenada. We made one last stop at Rhonde Island, also owned by Grenada, for a few quiet nights at anchor.

There anchorage has room for only four or five boats, a nice change from 82! We enjoyed the quiet, space and Scott got some exploring in.

From Rhonde Island, it was just a day trip to Grenada. We passed more interesting rock islands, and Scott put some lines in the water hoping for a nibble; unfortunately, he got skunked again.

Moving down the west cost of the island, we passed the capital city of St. Georges, and the remains of Fort George.

We passed several types of interesting boats in St. Georges anchorage, and the large Sandals LaSource Grenada, before turning east, to head along the south coast.

An hour or so later we made our final turn, into Prickly Bay. Again, this large bay was full of boats. There wasn’t enough room to lay out a proper amount of anchor chain, so we chose to grab one of the marina’s mooring balls.