WE MOVE TO ANOTHER BAY.
Rock and roll is not good, if it is the boat that is playing and not the music. We had a miserable night, well at least I did, Gisela slept through the night but I was up and down all night, trying to find a setting on the bridle to the anchor, that would keep me from needing a seat belt to stay in bed.
It was a funny swell that was doing the damage to us and it would start late afternoon when it was too late for me to be comfortable about dodging the reefs that lay outside many of the bays on the south coast of Grenada. On day one it quietened down around ten in the evening but on day two it built up all night and we were soon worried about loose stuff on tables and in the cockpit.
The wind had also got up and at least one person in the anchorage was happy about this as an expert kite surfer was weaving through the anchorage slaloming his board and lifting his kite over the masts as needed.
So next morning we upped anchor and plowed our way out then past Hog Island to Woburn Bay, now called Clark's Court Bay but it will always be Woburn to me.
I thought it would be crammed full but we had our choice of anchorages and tucked in close to Hog Island.
What a difference, the peace that passeth all understanding fell upon us, no more rock and roll with dishes clanking, tins in lockers rolling from side to side and anything not lashed down or wedged in tight threatening us with mayhem.
A good nights sleep and we were ready to go snorkeling. We found a tiny beach and worked our way out to a tiny reef to see what we could find.
This coral was new to me and was a brilliant white.
Two tone blue and yellow hog fish were everywhere, some a good foot long but anything that size was pretty gunshy and vanished as soon as I showed any interest in them.
On the way back to the boat we passed Rodger's Beach Bar and Barbecue which was started when I was out here last by Rodger who would dinghy out to hog Island on a Sunday with a cooler full of beer and the “bar” [ second palm tree] closed when he sold the last one. Now his Sunday barbecue is an island tradition and he can afford to stock more than a case of beer.
CONKED ON THE CONK WITH A CONCH.
We were woken on Monday with a story on the cruisers morning VHF net of a single hander who had had his dinghy stolen on Saturday night by three local youths who hit him on the head with a conch shell when he confronted them. The locals who value the tourists and yotties have already informed the police as to who the likely suspects are and interviews will take place.
Well we got wet, very wet Monday afternoon on our way back in the dinghy and after a showery start on Tuesday we got a real downpour so I had to bail the dinghy twice today. Mind you it saves a shower and the rain is warm.
The forecast was for a 20 % chance of light showers which surprised me as the synoptics have been showing this area of disturbed weather heading our way for some time now. I suspect it will get it's act together soon and a depression or storm will form over the ABC islands soon.
Still we had a delightfull lunch ashore as the sole diners in the Little Dipper restaurant looking out over the bay and with a Nouni tree in full bloom outside the verandah attracting a myriad butterflies and one persistant and busy hummer, all after the nectar.
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST AT WORK
After some snorkeling we spent some time cleaning the barnacles off the outboard.
Note the high tech tool in my hand, a clear sign of Neanderthal intelligence.