Northward Bound

We left Root Rocks and headed up (given a choice, WW always seems to choose the uphill route to any destination) to a road that runs along the hill above the Carenage, following this, we found a flight of stairs down and made our way back to Wharf Road. As we reached it, the rain began. We were a short dash from Nutmeg, a restaurant we had eaten at before and right next to the supermarket we needed to visit.

A Carib beer, a fish sandwich (his) and a BLT (hers) managed to occupy the time the rain fell with typical tropical force. It had worn itself out as we headed out, finished up our provisioning purchases, and walked back to the yacht club and Boffo.
We prepared for immediate departure, stashing the foods, slinging Boffo on her davits, replacing lifelines, tying down Lady, raising the anchor, tying down Tramp.

Why the hustle? We were expecting guests on November 19. They would be arriving on St. Vincent and here we were, a week away with a weekend in the way. We needed to get from Grenada to Carriacou, clear out of Grenada, head to Union Island, clear into St. Vincent and the Grenadines, get to Bequia, then get to Lagoon Marina where we’d arranged to pick up our guests. Sounds like time enough, but there’s always the weather to consider. So far, it had been glorious. The odd tropical rainstorm is not unreasonable in the wet season. The wind was not doing us any favours, and you just never know...

So we’d decided to get a jump on our crossing to Carriacou by heading up the Grenada coast to Gouyave, saving us several hours the next day on our run to Tyrrel Bay, Carriacou. So, up anchor and off we went.

*****

It was about 3 p.m. when we motored slowly between the many fishing boats of Gouyave and dropped our anchor in their midst.

Gouyave is famous for its fishing and is one of the main centres of the nutmeg industry. We had thought of trying to get in for a tour of the nutmeg processing station, but it was late and it seemed likely that we’d be too late. So we stayed aboard, with interested fisherfolk passing by, in boats or swimming, and greeting us. We decided a swim was in order too and were soon pootling about in the water by Django. Very refreshing.

WW was much taken with the onshore activity where a group of people were hauling personfully on a line. Following its line, WW determined that a massive net encircled the entire harbour. He was entertained right up to RP o’clock with the activity. The following are the work of the man who won’t use the camera:

Two gangs hauling on either end of the net that must have encircled the entire harbour

Setting up the trap

Sharing the wealth: fishermen come to pick up a load of bait fish