Beautiful Landscapes: Bequia and St. Lucia
These were quick stops! Perhaps in hindsight too quick, but looking back, we were always a bit torn between the curiousity of what’s around the next corner and enjoying the beautiful landscapes and people where we are.
In Bequia, Phatshag Fitzy - yes, that is the guy’s real nickname - runs the mooring balls in the harbour. It’s a busy harbour but he directed us to a spot and promised it would hold. With mooring balls, we always have to trust that they have been maintained and are the right size to hold our boat if a sudden squall stirs up. Sometimes, if we aren’t sure, one of us (usually Gus) will dive down and take a look at the line underwater to make sure we’re all good. But when the legendary Phatshag Fitzy tells you you’re good, you believe him.
Bequia is small but bustling. The town is just one street, the dinghies from visiting boats piled up at the pier bobbing as they await their skippers, like puppies at mealtime. Caribbean barbecued chicken sizzles on the grill and coconuts in precarious mounds are ready to be cut open for drinking. We bought some fresh fruit and vegetables, at twice the price of the local in front of us (tourist taxes are abundant and probably fair) then we met other cruisers from France, Germany and the US at the tiny floating bar where the cocktail orders require some sort of embarrassing announcement due to their racy names.
Over the next day or so, we rounded up a group of cruising families to hike up the hill overlooking the harbour. It was hot but fun, namely because kids don’t complain amongst other kids. The views were spectacular and the friendships made along the way were worth every step.
The sail between islands in the Caribbean this time of year is painfully uncomfortable. We’re going north. The winds are pushing east. This means lots of waves, confused seas, pounding into the water. We learned to wedge the inflatables in the galley to keep the drawers from banging open and breaking their catches. They weren’t built for this. There are no weather “windows” - this is the Caribbean winter. The wind is persistent and consistent.
We did make it to St. Lucia and chose a harbour on the southwest side between the two pitons. They are ginormous, towering above the sea like giant old ladies keeping watch on a Sunday school class. The anchorage was beautiful and uncrowded, with a the lovely Sugar Beach resort as a base. From there, Jordan, Russ and I hiked between the pitons, capturing stunning photos and admiring the views. Jordan, unimpressed, sang a song about an annoying mother while he hiked. No idea who that might be but the audio has been replaced. We finished our island tour with a little swim in a waterfall.
We made one more quick stop in Rodney Bay, the busy port of St. Lucia, where it rained all day and all night. We were waiting for the nonexistent weather window to make the perilous and painful hop between islands to Martinique, where my cousin Brenda was flying in. Since there is no window, we just went for it and, obviously, lived to tell the tale.
