Bequia and the return of the prodigal sons...

This whacky adventure began around 2am Wednesday morning as we set sail from St. Martin down island. Yesterdays journey was spent basking in the sun and reading as we breazed passed Guadaloup in near perfect weather except for an early evening squall followed by the starriest skies I have ever seen.

This morning we cut the engine power and were cruising along between 8.5 and 10 knots with the genoa and the main out. I learned how to hoist the main sail; the captain and I walked the length of the boat as he pointed out and described all the different mechanics to me – which halyards were for what uses, etc. and I was given a piece of line to practice my clove hitch and bowline.

A ways off of Martinique we had thought we came upon a life raft and all of us began preparing for a “situation”, possibly rescuing someone. But upon closer inspection it was a nude Canadian couple in an ocean-fairing row boat heading for Costa Rica! Only 5,000 miles to go, they were moving at about 1 knot a mile; completely exposed to the elements; a solar panel the size of a shoebox lid; and space for only one person to sleep at a time not to mention food storage, etc. It’s a thin line between adventure and suicide, but to each his own; we waved goodbye and sailed off…

The boys caught a beautiful dolphin fish, probably close to 12 lbs., just past St. Lucia. When they pulled the fish on deck the captain poured rum into its gills which killed the fish immediately; then, with one small slit below the gills and the quick stroke of three fingers, Quembe (the captains sailing buddy we picked up in St. Martin) had the entire fish gutted! I want my fish monger to be able to do that. I went to take a nap and missed the excitement of them catching and butchering a kingfish…

We sailed into Bequia around 6pm Thursday night, welcoming committee waiting… The captain and Quembe were greeted like the prodigal sons returning home. Before we even dropped anchor people were cruising past us in their dinghy’s waving and hollering – Clem, Burnin’ Flame, Gregoire. The captains has been here before and has sailed down with Bequians on his crew, so he’s known amongst all the locals; Quambe grew up here but hasn’t been home in almost a decade and in one way or another is related to absolutely everyone on this tiny island…

Quembe has promised to make us green banana and fish stew, which I can’t wait to see and taste. We are going to go to the market tomorrow (after cleaning the boat) to buy the ingredients that we need. But tonight we went to the Hotel Frangipani where Quembe’s sister works and had a lovely dinner which I was happy to not have to cook.

Afterwards we walked to the local snack shack for drinks with more friends and relatives of Quembe’s, and after that it was off to another large gathering of locals only this one on a tragic note as two days earlier Quembe’s young nephew returned after being away working on a cruise ship and on his first day back was killed in a car accident. It was awkward to walk into this family tragedy, but everyone had heard about the captain and was happy to finally make his aquaintence, and welcome Quembe back home. I was blown away by their welcoming and graciousness amidst their personal devastation and I can’t help but believe that the return of Quembe and the captain are a happy and much needed distraction for all of them…

After many more visits to friends and family from one end of the island to the other, in the wee hours of the morning, shoes tossed aside, I found myself dancing in the street with a local rasta to some great reggae streaming from a small (12 x 15) bar called the Penthouse, and known by the locals as the best club in town.

At that moment I realized that this is the Caribbean I’ve been dreaming about…