PART 3: SETTING SAIL
It's Monday morning and the wind has started to kick up. At noon we start our sailing charter on Saga Boy (homeport: London) with Mick and Charlotte Forster. Before that time, Rick and I loll about for a while, eat breakfast (french toast or banana pancakes with nutmeg syrup), and shopped in the hotel's store for a few souvenirs and necessities (toothbrush, film). Rick and I packed our bags and then goofed around in the pool for a while, accompanied by the Fun-noodles and water bombs we brought with us (we have just gotten these toys for our own sailboat this season, and find them to be a blast). Soon, we headed to the docks to meet our crew and our craft.
Mick and Charlotte are a married couple from northern England. They have been working as Moorings crew for 3 years and know these waters and the islands intimately. Charlotte is a bubbly, outgoing short-haired blonde close to my age. Mick is somewhat older, and the quieter of the two, but becomes more talkative as he warms up to his audience or his topic. We gain an instant comfort level with the two of them.
The boat is a Jenneau International 50 custom-outfitted for the Moorings. It has a roomy cockpit with two helm stations, 2 cabins aft (Rick and I have one, Mick and Charlotte the other) and 2 cabins forward. In between is a U-shaped galley and nav station to starboard, and a U-shaped settee and table to port. Lots of varnished wood trim and bright white, bearing the typical French/Moorings look. At 5 years old, the boat is immaculately maintained and equipped, since crewed boats tend to fare better than bareboats.
We motored away from the dock a bit and anchored in Mt. Hartman Bay for lunch, which was pasta with tomatoes, onions and mushrooms in a spicy, creamy sauce. After lunch, we sailed around the southern tip of Grenada, past Point Salines where a number of landing planes passed just over our heads as we rounded the point. On the west side of Grenada, we passed Morne Rouge, Grand Anse and St. George. Just as Mt. Saint Catherine, Grenada's highest peak, blocked out our wind, we dropped sails and motored into Dragon Bay for the night, tossing out both a bow anchor and a kedge anchor to minimize the swell.
Dragon Bay used to have a dark, sandy beach and vibrant corals. However, Hurricane Lenny, whose winds did not hit Grenada but whose ocean swells did, changed all that, moving the sand from the beach into the bay and smashing coral. Rick and I dinked over to the beach and started to snorkel, while Jim, Ardy and my dad dinked over later. Jim started to snorkel, but abruptly came ashore; Rick swam over to his father (leaving me behind) to make sure everything was alright, and it turned out to be an equipment problem. I snorkeled a bit more, but there wasn't all that much to see because of the storm damage. There were a few interesting corals, fierce-looking sea urchins and a few fish, but the water was murky from recent rains. I swam back to the boat under my own steam and nicked my knee on the rudder when a big swell knocked me into it. Everyone else straggled in a bit later, and I took a saltwater bath (boats have limited freshwater; I have special saltwater soap, which is biodegradable, which lets me do my part to conserve).
Around sunset (close to 6 p.m. in these parts this time of year), Mick served up rum punches and nibbles, and a bit later, Charlotte served a West Indian feast (I had requested native cuisine on our preference sheet). Callaloo soup (the BEST of our entire journey), red snapper creole, potatoes mashed with butternut squash, and broccoli, crowned with coconut pie and washed down with red and white wine. It sure is nice NOT to be in charge of the galley, as I usually am, for this trip.
We sat around and talked awhile, then Rick and I snuggled on the foredeck, watching the stars, before heading to our cabin. It was a rough, rolly night, with the surge coming abeam. It rained some overnight, but mine and Rick's overhead hatch was under the dodger, so we didn't notice.
