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Saturday » June 7 » 2008
Set sail in Caribbean paradise
Daryl Richel
For Canwest News Service
Saturday, June 07, 2008
It's Day one of our 11-day sailing adventure around this Caribbean country that comprises a group of islands located just west of Barbados. Our captain, Phil Hunt, my brother-in-law, is all smiles as he steers our chartered 14.3-metre sailboat through waves.
I'm not having as much fun as Phil. The sun is warm on my shoulders as I bend over, staring into the beautiful blue water rushing along. My breakfast has reappeared overboard, thanks to my first bout of seasickness.
All I can think of is how I'm going to cope with 10 more days of this living hell. Mariners say it's bad luck to start a sea voyage on a Friday . . . it's a Friday.
Phil reassures me that this will be a long-remembered and spectacular holiday. The plan is to set sail every day (oh, please no) and head for islands ringed with white sand beaches, where we will snorkel with turtles, meet lots of friendly locals and eat great food. Sounds wonderful, except for the potential of spending my days coping with daily seasickness.
I want to have a good time here and so do the rest of my extended family. They all seem to be doing just fine in the boat's small cockpit. I bite my lip, pull up my bootstraps and do a little happy dance when, after a three-hour sail from St. Vincent, we arrive at our first island, Mustique.
Mustique is the quintessential Caribbean hideaway for the rich and famous. We drop anchor near what is reportedly Tommy Hilfiger's 30.5-metre yacht. Mick Jagger, Bryan Adams and Hilfiger have homes here.
As the sun is setting, we take our Zodiac to shore and the first thing I notice is the emptiness. Every now and then a golf cart putts by, but other than that, the street is deserted; it's just empty white sand beaches and palm trees.
Tonight we're eating at the Cotton House, an 18th-century cotton warehouse that has been converted to a restaurant and hotel. The highlights of our gourmet meal include the fried seafood served in a brown paper bag and prosciutto sliced in the dinning room on a spotless, antique hand-cranked Italian meat slicer.
St. Vincent and the Grenadines is one of the few nations that doesn't have a military. You can see why as we arrive in Mayreau, a two-hour sail from Mustique. Mayreau defines the term "laid back" -- no police, 500 metres of paved road and about 300 residents.
The crossing to Mayreau is delightful, so I'm starting to think my initial seasickness is behind me.
Tonight for supper we go to the Robert Righteous and 'de Youth Seafood Restaurant and Bar, a slap-dash eatery covered in hundreds of tattered posters of Mario Lemieux, the band Toto, Bob Marley and many more. Owner Robert Righteous has a booming voice and working-class hands.
Robert was born on Mayreau and worked on a shrimp boat for a few years. He acquired the land to build the restaurant after he squatted on it until the government said he could keep it.
As Robert works the room he says, "After five years of squatting, I told the government I was providing some work for the locals, so they sent a survey crew to look at the land and said I could keep it."
The specialty of the house is rich and delicious conch fritters -- think escargot on steroids. Conch fritters are made from meat cut out of the huge conch shells found all over the Caribbean.
From Mayreau, we head to Union Island. The main city is Clifton, from where we see traffic for the first time since we left St. Vincent. Many of the shops cater to foreign sailors stocking up on supplies. Frozen ricotta and mushroom metzaluna pasta, Camembert and calamata olives are available.
The most unusual restaurant and bar in the Grenadines is on a small fabricated "island" in Clifton Harbour, Union's main port.
This is Happy Island and its owner is Janti Ramaj. "I built Happy Island," he says, leaning on his bar, "because I'm full of magic. I added lots of shells on top of a reef and then used cement to hold the whole thing together."
He also added sand, planted palm trees and built a little dwelling.
Happy Island is about the size of a four-car garage and it takes about 11 seconds to walk across, which means his project is probably the smallest land reclamation project in the world. Like Robert, he squatted on his Happy Island until the government said he could stay.
Mass tourism would likely drive out small operators like Robert and Janti. Unlike almost every other country in the Caribbean, however, mass tourism is not king in the Grenadines. That's mostly because the islands are accessible only by smaller boats and aircraft; S.V.G. doesn't have an airport that can handle big jets, either.
As a result, locally owned hotels and restaurants abound. The Grenadines' most spectacular islands don't have a single hotel or restaurant.
The Tobago Cays is a national marine park made up of five small islands. The park's formula to preserve the area's coral reefs and marine life is simple: no development. Zero.
Once our anchor is firmly set, we jump off the boat for our first snorkel in the cays. We're all hoping to catch a glimpse of a sea turtle and can't believe our luck when we see one on our first swim.
On our last day, we make a beeline from Bequia to St. Vincent. The boat is due back by noon. S.V.G. and the West Indies region is famous for the trade winds that seem to never stop blowing. The wind is blowing and I'm seasick again, this time even worse than 10 days ago. It's only the second time I'm seasick on the trip. But I'm happy to go through a little hell to get a lot of heaven . . . and it's not a Friday.
© The Calgary Herald 2008
Copyright © 2008 CanWest Interactive, a division of CanWest MediaWorks Publications, Inc.. All rights reserved.
CanWest Interactive, a division of CanWest MediaWorks Publications, Inc.. All rights reserved.
Set sail in Caribbean paradise
Daryl Richel
For Canwest News Service
Saturday, June 07, 2008
It's Day one of our 11-day sailing adventure around this Caribbean country that comprises a group of islands located just west of Barbados. Our captain, Phil Hunt, my brother-in-law, is all smiles as he steers our chartered 14.3-metre sailboat through waves.
I'm not having as much fun as Phil. The sun is warm on my shoulders as I bend over, staring into the beautiful blue water rushing along. My breakfast has reappeared overboard, thanks to my first bout of seasickness.
All I can think of is how I'm going to cope with 10 more days of this living hell. Mariners say it's bad luck to start a sea voyage on a Friday . . . it's a Friday.
Phil reassures me that this will be a long-remembered and spectacular holiday. The plan is to set sail every day (oh, please no) and head for islands ringed with white sand beaches, where we will snorkel with turtles, meet lots of friendly locals and eat great food. Sounds wonderful, except for the potential of spending my days coping with daily seasickness.
I want to have a good time here and so do the rest of my extended family. They all seem to be doing just fine in the boat's small cockpit. I bite my lip, pull up my bootstraps and do a little happy dance when, after a three-hour sail from St. Vincent, we arrive at our first island, Mustique.
Mustique is the quintessential Caribbean hideaway for the rich and famous. We drop anchor near what is reportedly Tommy Hilfiger's 30.5-metre yacht. Mick Jagger, Bryan Adams and Hilfiger have homes here.
As the sun is setting, we take our Zodiac to shore and the first thing I notice is the emptiness. Every now and then a golf cart putts by, but other than that, the street is deserted; it's just empty white sand beaches and palm trees.
Tonight we're eating at the Cotton House, an 18th-century cotton warehouse that has been converted to a restaurant and hotel. The highlights of our gourmet meal include the fried seafood served in a brown paper bag and prosciutto sliced in the dinning room on a spotless, antique hand-cranked Italian meat slicer.
St. Vincent and the Grenadines is one of the few nations that doesn't have a military. You can see why as we arrive in Mayreau, a two-hour sail from Mustique. Mayreau defines the term "laid back" -- no police, 500 metres of paved road and about 300 residents.
The crossing to Mayreau is delightful, so I'm starting to think my initial seasickness is behind me.
Tonight for supper we go to the Robert Righteous and 'de Youth Seafood Restaurant and Bar, a slap-dash eatery covered in hundreds of tattered posters of Mario Lemieux, the band Toto, Bob Marley and many more. Owner Robert Righteous has a booming voice and working-class hands.
Robert was born on Mayreau and worked on a shrimp boat for a few years. He acquired the land to build the restaurant after he squatted on it until the government said he could keep it.
As Robert works the room he says, "After five years of squatting, I told the government I was providing some work for the locals, so they sent a survey crew to look at the land and said I could keep it."
The specialty of the house is rich and delicious conch fritters -- think escargot on steroids. Conch fritters are made from meat cut out of the huge conch shells found all over the Caribbean.
From Mayreau, we head to Union Island. The main city is Clifton, from where we see traffic for the first time since we left St. Vincent. Many of the shops cater to foreign sailors stocking up on supplies. Frozen ricotta and mushroom metzaluna pasta, Camembert and calamata olives are available.
The most unusual restaurant and bar in the Grenadines is on a small fabricated "island" in Clifton Harbour, Union's main port.
This is Happy Island and its owner is Janti Ramaj. "I built Happy Island," he says, leaning on his bar, "because I'm full of magic. I added lots of shells on top of a reef and then used cement to hold the whole thing together."
He also added sand, planted palm trees and built a little dwelling.
Happy Island is about the size of a four-car garage and it takes about 11 seconds to walk across, which means his project is probably the smallest land reclamation project in the world. Like Robert, he squatted on his Happy Island until the government said he could stay.
Mass tourism would likely drive out small operators like Robert and Janti. Unlike almost every other country in the Caribbean, however, mass tourism is not king in the Grenadines. That's mostly because the islands are accessible only by smaller boats and aircraft; S.V.G. doesn't have an airport that can handle big jets, either.
As a result, locally owned hotels and restaurants abound. The Grenadines' most spectacular islands don't have a single hotel or restaurant.
The Tobago Cays is a national marine park made up of five small islands. The park's formula to preserve the area's coral reefs and marine life is simple: no development. Zero.
Once our anchor is firmly set, we jump off the boat for our first snorkel in the cays. We're all hoping to catch a glimpse of a sea turtle and can't believe our luck when we see one on our first swim.
On our last day, we make a beeline from Bequia to St. Vincent. The boat is due back by noon. S.V.G. and the West Indies region is famous for the trade winds that seem to never stop blowing. The wind is blowing and I'm seasick again, this time even worse than 10 days ago. It's only the second time I'm seasick on the trip. But I'm happy to go through a little hell to get a lot of heaven . . . and it's not a Friday.
© The Calgary Herald 2008
Copyright © 2008 CanWest Interactive, a division of CanWest MediaWorks Publications, Inc.. All rights reserved.
CanWest Interactive, a division of CanWest MediaWorks Publications, Inc.. All rights reserved.
posted by Karl Eklund at 4:51 AM
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