It’s quite an undertaking to get ready for life ashore – lots of physical work to prepare Dragonfly and mental work to readjust to life ashore in the Land O’ Plenty.

Mr Insurance Man in London said we could leave Dragonfly in the Caribbean as long as we were south of 10 degrees 12 minutes north latitude, so the south coast of Grenada is now our boat’s home for the hurricane season.

Taking the boat out of the water makes the most sense as there are fewer risks, and so the sails come off, the dinghy gets stored, the canvas bimini is removed, the water maker pickled, basically everything is unrigged.

And so when it’s all done and Dragonfly is securely stored in the boatyard, it’s time to head home and start looking forward to next season and all the places to be explored.

Brigitte and Gerald

Brigitte and Gerald live full time on a sister ship of Dragonfly – Jetlag is an Amel Super Maramu and they were docked directly across from us when we arrived off the plane in Martinique. As we stood on the dock contemplating how best to get all our gear onboard and dry, they hopped off Jetlag and just started helping out. A great friendship was born.

Brigitte and Gerald are from Switzerland, he’s a retired Swiss Air pilot and she is a retired schoolteacher.

They initially cruised the Med and crossed the Atlantic a few years ago to spend time in the Caribbean. Jetlag overlapped with us in Martinique as they were undertaking an extensive refit before heading west on a long planned, slow circumnavigation (10 years is the current thinking). After receiving much technical repair advice and help, trips sailing and to the beach, dinners and game nights, it was time for hugs, goodbyes and well wishes.

Terry and Balsa

Terje and Balsa are from Norway. Far northern Norway. Terje goes by Terry as it’s easier for people outside Scandinavia to pronounce. I called him the Teddy Bear in Underwear, because every single day the only thing he wore was his boxer underwear.

Totally mellow, he was in Martinique to thaw out; he had spent his career as a Volvo heavy equipment diesel engine mechanic working north of the Arctic circle. His hands continually hurt from the nature of his profession and the location of his employer. Balsa is more zen than Terry and would walk off the boat’s passarelle to greet folks on the dock. He only had a problem with a large, ornery old cat from a nearby boat. It seemed to be a mutual hate/hate relationship but everyone lived another day whilst we were there.

Captain Nick

Nick was part of what I called the Scandinavian mafia – amazing how many cruisers there are from Norway, Sweden, Finland and Denmark. He and his wife own a 75 foot steel schooner called Skydancer; they spend their summers in Greenland hosting charter guests aboard for sail and ski vacations, as well as research scientists, documentary film makers and the like. They spend their winters in the Caribbean recovering and warming up. Nick is a huge guy, very friendly, knowledgeable, and willing to share advice and suggestions. Pretty comfortable in the islands, yet easy to see how he’d be in his element navigating his vessel amongst the summer ice flows around Greenland.

Thomas

Thomas was the other member of the Scandinavian mafia. He was single-handing his Bavaria 55 around the world and documenting it on his YouTube channel: Free Thomas. Terry, Balsa, Nick and Thomas could spend hours in Django’s cockpit telling stories – it became this really nice background noise as they chatted in their common language.

Krista and Bill

All Canadians are nice folks and Krista and Bill were no exception. We first chatted them up at the marina pool in Canouan and continued to see them and enjoy our time chatting. Bill owned a pharmaceutical wholesale company in St Johns New Brunswick that he sold at an early age. Krista was a school teacher and gets a gold star for being such a good trooper. Maybe 10 days before we met they were going to shore in their dinghy, got out to pull the boat onto the beach, and a wave hit the boat, spun it, and hit Krista directly in the rib cage with the outboard motor shaft. Ouch – cracked ribs, lots of pain then discomfort, but never a complaint and always a great attitude.

Lifelong sailors, they decided to buy a Trintella 57 (Dutch aluminum sloop with Solent rig) and have enjoyed the past 16 winters sailing in the Caribbean. When we met they were quick to make it clear Krista is only 10 years younger, probably because everyone assumes it’s a bigger number.

And So Many More

And then there was Grant and Andrea from South Africa, Duncan and Kathy from Toronto, Nigel and Susan from England / Boston, Joshua and Maaike from the Netherlands, and so many more friendly and interesting people each pursuing their dreams and living life to the fullest. Hope to see all of you in a quiet anchorage someday soon.

When traveling we often look for how things are different because that interests us. But, when we find that things are the same, this is when it becomes fascinating.

For when we find sameness, it exists in an environment that is so completely different from what we know, what we’re comfortable with, what we assume to be true and, oftentimes, what we assume to be ours.

Traveling for several months throughout the Windwards, visiting 11 islands spread across four countries, that is what we have seen: the universal truth in how people live. They want to live with Dignity, and to be treated with Respect, and to be part of a Community, and to have a Family.

Rashon was the cutest little kid, maybe 7 or 8, full of life and energy and a sparkle in his eyes, but alas quiet and shy and a bit uncertain. Barefoot in the sand, he was closely attached to our waitress at this outdoor beach bbq on an uninhabited island in the Tobago Cays Marine Park. Back and forth they both went to the open air kitchen – grilled lobster, marlin, veggie rice, potatoes, fried plantains and more.

We asked our waitress if Rashon was her child. No, he’s my little friend, we like each other a lot, his mother isn’t really able to take care of him, he’s happier when he’s here on the island with Free Willy (the owner of the bbq tent) and me. They looked at each other with the warmest, most affectionate smiles.

Dinner over, plates being cleared, Rashon comes racing up, eager to help. It was a memorable moment, a short moment, but one that we all observed. As our waitress handed a plate to Rashon, he took it, but she paused, reaching back to him, and ever so thoughtfully, carefully, and gently, she took his little hands in hers, repositioned his fingers and wrists, and simply smiled at him. He looked up at her. Nothing said, but love was spoken.

The smallest action, helping a child to find a better way, being part of his life and his community, respecting him in front of a table of four adults, four strangers, four foreigners, allowing him to have a role with pride and dignity.

People want a job, or if not a job, then they want a role, because a job (or a role) allows them to live with dignity.

Every place we visit, walking down the street, or through a neighborhood, we’re greeted with smiles and hellos and welcomes and can I help you. Boat boys arrive when we arrive:

Can I help you with your mooring?

Do you want ice?

In the morning they are at our side again:

Do you want banana bread? (banana cake at Union Island)

Do you have trash? 

Only once have we felt aggression, but that was in the form of upselling and re-pricing. On reflection, it possibly was driven by hunger and needs and maybe a bit of desperation. And it all worked out

Bonjour. Ca Va.

Hello. Good morning

Fist bump. Thumbs up.

Nearly everything is closed on Sundays in the islands. Sundays are for church and for friends and for family. But not for work, there is plenty of time for that. Everywhere we went, we saw families in the morning dressed for church and in the afternoon dressed for the beach. Grandma and Grandpa, Mom and Dad, kids, friends, aunts, uncles. Driving to church, walking to church. Sitting on the beach. Grilling on the beach. Playing in the water. Listening to music. Having a drink. Down here, it’s called Limin’. We might say Chilling. Here it’s Limin’.

A desire to live with dignity and be treated with respect. To be seen. To be acknowledged. To be engaged. To live as part of a community, to belong. To have a family, and children. And the forever hope that my children will have more opportunity, be better off, have a better life, than I have had.

See me.

Acknowledge me.

Talk to me.

Recognize not the difference between you and me, but the sameness between you and me.

Dignity. Respect. Community. Family.

Universal Truths. 

That I am the same as you.

Having tied the dinghy to the park service float, deployed the boarding ladder, and fitted our snorkel masks and fins, we slipped off the Hypalon tubes and into Molinere Bay. Protected by two rock outcroppings to windward and leeward, the bay is on the west coast of Grenada, a few miles north of the entrance to Port Louis at St. Georges.

We saw the familiar; brightly colored fish against a backdrop of pure white Caribbean sand.

Swimming across the bay in about 20-30 feet of water, we could barely distinguish the outline of a shaped form, as the somewhat overcast skies and turbulent waters made visibility less than clear. As we approached, the outline slowly came into focus – ethereal, almost haunting, lifelike forms, underwater, standing on the seabed, holding hands, yet with sea life swimming around them, small pieces of coral attaching themselves to the body forms. Angled rays of light streaming down.

Haunting.

In 2006, the British sculptor Jason deCaires Taylor opened the world’s first underwater sculpture park featuring a collection of ecological contemporary art. The works are derived from life casts of the local community. He installed concrete figures onto the ocean floor, mostly consisting of a range of human forms ranging from solitary individuals to a ring of children holding hands, facing into the oceanic currents.

The artist explains: Vicissitudes depicts a circle of figures, all linked through holding hands. These are life size casts taken from a group of children of diverse ethnic backgrounds. Circular in structure….the work both withstands strong currents and replicates one of the primary geometric shapes, evoking ideas of unity and continuum……The sculpture proposes growth, chance, and natural transformation. It shows how time and environment impact on and shape the physical body. Children by nature are adaptive to their surroundings. Their use within the work highlights the importance of creating a sustainable and well-managed environment, a space for future generations.

Just off the coast of Carriacou is a picture postcard island, uninhabited, nothing but sand, palm trees, tide pools and a pristine coral reef teeming with a tremendous variety of sea life.

This is the place where you come for a night and stay, and then the next day, decide to stay again. After three snorkeling trips on the reef with a little waterproof Panasonic camera, everyone agreed it was a stop worth repeating.

We sailed south out of the Bequai harbor in a mild 15 knot ENE trade wind. Looking out to port, we spotted a series of stone buildings nestled on the tree covered rocky hillside.

We had heard of this place: Moonhole.

Back in the 60’s, a couple of New York advertising execs checked out of the rat race and came here to build a community on the desolate and unpopulated hills of southern Bequai, a tranquil and remote island of the Grenadines.

The name Moonhole derived from a huge arch formed from volcanic substrate through which you can sometimes see the moon.

Nearly all of their construction materials were locally sourced stone, rock, and some whalebone artifacts.

They collected rainwater, grew vegetables and fruits, and ate from the sea.

All these years later there are still a few residents clinging to a unique and lonely way of life.

Union is the southernmost of the group of islands forming Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, an independently governed country still part of the British Commonwealth.

The first European settlers were Frenchmen who arrived in 1763 with 350 slaves. The Treaty of Versailles signed 20 years later resulted in Union Island along with the other islands comprising the Grenadines being transferred under the control of England.

Ownership of Union Island was held by an Englishman and then a Scotsman and finally a St Vincentian, with all of these families focusing their efforts on growing a very fine strain of cotton called Marie-Gallant.

The double whammy of a bad cotton harvest and a hurricane forced the final owner to sell Union to the British Crown, which then created the Union Island Settlement Scheme. Parcels of 2-4 acres were sold to local residents at favorable credit rates.

Leaving the gravel parking lot at the head of the dinghy dock, Sam turned his taxi away from Kingstown and headed up into the lush green hills. Meeting oncoming traffic became a pattern of a gentle swerve toward the edge of the road, a friendly tap on the horn, and for us in the backseat, a quick check to confirm the driver’s outside mirror was still attached to the Toyota minivan.

Quickly the road narrowed, the homes became more basic, the air cooled, and the vegetation became a deep verdant green. After climbing for 20 minutes, we caught our first glimpse of the Mesopotamia Valley, the bread basket of Saint Vincent.

Steep hillsides were planted with a variety of root vegetables, many of which were exported to their primary market France. Mechanical farm equipment was nowhere to be seen – this agriculture went from seed to harvest with a long hoe and strong back.

We stopped briefly for road construction; 15 men working hard moving rocks by hand and building a cinder block water catchment gutter. They were aided by a couple of guys driving road leveling equipment.

The homes and people thinned the farther we climbed the winding road, until we rounded a corner and saw the sign for Montreal Gardens.

Started in the 1970s by a keen gardener, it came into the hands of its second and current owner in 1995: a highly accomplished horticulturist from France who has made it his life’s work to design, plant and nurture the abundant variety of all flora that grow in this tropical climate of Saint Vincent.

His full time staff of three were hard at work, yet more than happy to take time to share with us the history of the gardens and what was growing where.

Over the course of a couple of hours, we were the only guests and learned that some days there are no human visitors at all.

A flexibility muscle is the most important thing to have on a boat.

Having left the marina for a planned short sail to the Tobago Cays, a couple of surprise mechanical issues forced us to rethink our plan.

First, the Genoa furler stopped working with the big headsail halfway out. We tried everything to wake up the electric furling motor but no joy. This happened previously (an episode so bad it didn’t make it into print) so at least this time I had the right adapter for the 18V drill and was able to manually get the Genoa furled properly.

Once this was temporarily resolved, we were motor sailing with the mainsail up when I noticed the Volvo engine warning light was on – possible water in the diesel fuel. Yikes!

No point trying to motor to the Tobago Cays with these issues, so Navigator Susan located Salt Whistle Bay on Mayreau, a small island with one settlement and maybe 300 inhabitants.

Picked up a mooring ball, resumed the rocking and rolling, and got the two mechanical issues resolved. So the next day we went for a walk across the island.

When the enhanced trade winds blow 20+ knots for nine straight weeks, the seas state becomes, shall we say, noticeable. Even in what look like protected anchorages the swell still wraps around the corner and comes back into the harbor. This means the wind and wind chop are on the bow and the swell is off the stern quarter.

Translated – less than comfortable when the boat is rocking and rolling at anchor.

Solution – read the cruising guide, find one of the few marinas in the area, and spend two nights tied up to a dock. Smooth Jazz.

We found the Sandy Lane Marina on Canouan – calm and quality sleep at last.

Bonus was their restaurant on the beach with a swimming pool and lounge chairs overlooking the Tobago Cays in the distance.

But enough relaxation- Dragonfly is for exploring, so off to the Tobago Cays!

If Bequai is the Real Caribbean, then Mustique is, well, the polar opposite.

A private island with 190 villas (code speak for huge mansions on manicured grounds), it was first developed in the 1940’s and quickly discovered by the international jet set crowd. Today villas here are owned by the likes of Mick Jagger, Brian Adams, Tommy Hilfiger – you get the picture.

While the island itself is beautiful, it was not blessed with anything resembling a natural harbor. And so all these folks vacation here, but the only private craft owned by a local was a 30 year old Sunfish. At least the owner was out sailing it while we were there visiting.

Though none of the locals are boaters, they seem to like the ambiance created at their private island when there’s 15-20 yachts and super yachts moored off the beach. Cruisers are welcome to come to shore, visit the village and enjoy the shops and restaurants. We can walk the beach, but to go anywhere else on the island one must take a taxi (there are 3 on the island). To wander off on your own will most certainly result in being permanently escorted off the island – they take their security serious here.

It takes a small army of workers to run an island, especially since some of the larger villas have full time staff of 12-15. There is a small village where 150 inhabitants live; these are the workers on the island who have been here for the better part of their entire lives.

We hired Johnny, one of the three taxi drivers, for a tour of the island. He explained that the modest homes they live in are theirs though they do not have equity in the traditional sense. Possession of the home he now lives in passes to his daughter upon his death. The company that manages the island (it’s owned by the 190 villas owners) provides the workers homes and even pays the utility bills.

Workers qualify for retirement at 65, and the company will hire a healthcare caregiver when it’s necessary. They also pay the cost for burial. I asked what most folks did once they retired, and he said they’re capable of continuing to work, and since that’s all anybody has known most folks just keep working.

Johnny also commented that every single person on the island had a job, nobody was idle, they had full employment.

As we traversed the rolling hills and beach lands Johnny walked us through the concepts of triple B and triple M that were pertinent on Mustique.

Triple B: Buy, Break, Build. This is what the new arrivals would do – buy an existing home (no more undeveloped lots remaining), break it as in tear it down, then spend a few years building anew. They were now seeing triple B applied to villas as new as 5 years.

Triple M: Make More Money. This is why the villa owners tell Johnny they’re leaving paradise as he’s driving them in his taxi to their charter flight home.

We enjoyed meeting Ali and Heidi at the local coffee shop. Ali arrived 31 years ago as a baker from France and has stayed ever since, marrying and raising kids (school is available through sixth grade then the kiddos go to Saint Vincent for secondary education). Ali arises at midnight to start making pastries, croissants, quiche, loaves of bread, cookies, etc. Open from 6 am he serves everyone on the island with a big smile and lots of happy energy.

Basil’s was a fun place to hang out – it had perfected that relaxed beach bar atmosphere with just the right touch of class and elegance. It all made sense when we learned that Basil’s had been reimagined in 2015 by Philippe Starck. Go figure.

Very welcoming people, amazing beaches, excellent snorkeling along the reef, beautiful scenery and fun times eating and dancing at Basil’s. Everything needed to forget the anchorage was so rolly from the Atlantic swell coming around the corner that Susan had to sleep on her stomach with both arms out to keep her on the bed.

Bequai is one of the islands in the Grenadines. The Grenadines are separate and distinct from Grenada. The Grenadines also include the Tobago Cays, and these are separate and distinct from Tobago which is part of Trinidad and Tobago. 

The point of this is that it’s nearly impossible to figure all this out without coming here, reading the charts, navigating the passages, dropping the anchor and exploring each island. 

Our first stop in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines was Bequai, a small, sailboat friendly island with one town that fortunately includes a Customs and Immigration office.

After Martinique we were now in the Real Caribbean – reggae music, Rasta hats, beach shacks with Carib beer and grilled chicken, clear turquoise waters and long sandy beaches.