Happy September.
It's probably started to get cooler in Halifax. We would be donning sweaters and long pants if we were spending the evening in the back yard at home. Here at Hog Island it gets dark by 6:30, and we sit in the cockpit in our boxers and let the evening breeze cool us off a bit. Can't do that at home.
Week-long birthday celebrations have just wrapped up. David and Kim on Amanzi, Randy, and Phil, over at Whisper Cove Marina -- all Virgos, all within a week of each other (Anna too, but she celebrated the big 23 at choir camp in Berwick, without a mummy-made marble cake this year). We started off with an impromptu taco night on Amanzi, then the big event was a Braai on the beach on Saturday. Braai is a South African word that comes close to meaning barbeque and party, and that's what we did. We shared the beach with a group of local guys who were cooking up a big pot of "strong water." Everything Caribbean men eat or drink is about their all-important virility. Apparently a combination of boiled octopus, land crab, water crab, lobster and conch will make them immediately need to go home and make babies. So they told us. They reluctantly let Kim taste it, and we noted no change in her behaviour. Maybe it only works for men. (I get really weird, startled looks if I order a Guinness here. Only men drink Guinness, for obvious reasons.)
On Braai day, Cliff and Melody (Cliff's Note), Menno (Eira), Tara and Stewart (Mange Tout), the Amanzis and the Nancy Dawsons dragged all our gear to the beach at Hog Island and played stupid games just like a real birthday party. Randy, David and Kim, the celebrants, were made to partake in contests of one sort or another before they could open their presents. Starting with an egg and spoon race -- there was only one egg, so the boys had onions. Kim was led to believe it was a hard-boiled egg that she trotted to victory, after one false start, and found that this was not so when she crushed it in triumph. Next, the three-legged race, and they all got to choose a partner. Kim must have been stinging from the egg wash, because she cheated outrageously, and Melody and David were declared the winners because Melody got a blister.
That left Randy as the only birthday fella with no win, so Tara declared that he must sing "Happy Birthday" in the style of Elmer Fudd. His mother can be very proud of her talented boy. They all got party loot bags with various items to assist with hurricane preparedness: "eau sheet" toilet rolls, plastic ponchos, rum, party poppers, bois bande wine (another Caribbean aphrodisiac, for men naturally) scrubbies for cleaning the waterline, chocolate, clean boxers, erotic novels ... just the essentials really.
Kim's birthday was the next day, and for all that we'd all planned to stay in and eat sensibly and rest up, we all ended up dinghying over to Whisper Cove Marina for pizza night.
Since then, it's been pretty quiet. Just one big get together Whisper Cove for Phil's birthday, a jazz night party at Roger's Bar on Hog Island, and a couple of pot lucks (cruisers are big on eating someone else's cooking. No wonder. There was even Jello at the last pot luck. It disappeared first.)
Roger's Bar is a hangout for both locals and cruisers. Sometimes there's more than a dozen dinghies parked on the beach, and a couple of the local wooden launches with big outboards that go flying through the anchorage late at night. Lately, there's been just as many kids and dogs as adults. You can get coolish beer, rum and coke, bbq on Sundays. John on Sea Witch has been here for four years, and he told us that the bar was knocked together by cruisers, and Roger, a Grenadian, has sort of turned it into a money-maker, albeit a very rustic one. No water, no refrigeration, electricity comes from the little generator, and there's no toilet or outhouse. Under the noonday sun there's a decidedly pissy pong out back. Roger sleeps on a lawn chair behind the bar, and emerges about 7 in the morning to rake the beach clean. We spent a couple of mornings there with Amanzi's sewing machine helping them to put together a huge sun awning for the boat. After a while, the pong and the sticky counter and the arrival of a day charter catamaran full of sunburned vacationers convinced us to find a better location. Phil very kindly offered the use of the back room at Whisper Cove, and then the use of their sewing machine after Amanzi's came to a full smoking halt. We're really enjoying Whisper Cove and the folks there - it's one of the friendliest places in the Caribbean, and Phil and Shelley are possibly the most generous and helpful people we've met thus far in Grenada (Canadians, eh?).
While we worked on the awning, Randy's been working on the rowing dinghy. He fiberglassed and epoxied the bottom on the foredeck of ND, then towed it to the beach, and did the messy grinding there. It still needs sanding and painting inside, but we took it for a row this morning, and the neighbours were all "oooh," and "aaaah." She goes some fast and smooth you, and it's great fun. Once he gets all the bits and pieces tiddlied up, we'll have a proper christening. Lord, another party.
Grocery store note: On Wednesday, Kim and I applied for our customer discount cards at the IGA in Grand Anse. First we were told they'd be ready in 10 days to 2 weeks. Then another lady told us we could pick them up on Friday. I was there on Saturday, and was told, "deys ready, but dey not laminated yet. You can get dem on Monday." Just about everything moves with the same blinding speed and efficiency. We took Nancy around to Martin's Marina for fuel and water a few days ago. We called on the VHF first and let them know we were coming. There was no one on the dock, so I went to the office and the girl said, "I call someone." I took an hour and a half to get fuel and water and the bill for same. Granted, it's a long walk down the dock. We're learning to live with GMT - Grenada Maybe Time.
See below for birthday pictures.
It's probably started to get cooler in Halifax. We would be donning sweaters and long pants if we were spending the evening in the back yard at home. Here at Hog Island it gets dark by 6:30, and we sit in the cockpit in our boxers and let the evening breeze cool us off a bit. Can't do that at home.
Week-long birthday celebrations have just wrapped up. David and Kim on Amanzi, Randy, and Phil, over at Whisper Cove Marina -- all Virgos, all within a week of each other (Anna too, but she celebrated the big 23 at choir camp in Berwick, without a mummy-made marble cake this year). We started off with an impromptu taco night on Amanzi, then the big event was a Braai on the beach on Saturday. Braai is a South African word that comes close to meaning barbeque and party, and that's what we did. We shared the beach with a group of local guys who were cooking up a big pot of "strong water." Everything Caribbean men eat or drink is about their all-important virility. Apparently a combination of boiled octopus, land crab, water crab, lobster and conch will make them immediately need to go home and make babies. So they told us. They reluctantly let Kim taste it, and we noted no change in her behaviour. Maybe it only works for men. (I get really weird, startled looks if I order a Guinness here. Only men drink Guinness, for obvious reasons.)
On Braai day, Cliff and Melody (Cliff's Note), Menno (Eira), Tara and Stewart (Mange Tout), the Amanzis and the Nancy Dawsons dragged all our gear to the beach at Hog Island and played stupid games just like a real birthday party. Randy, David and Kim, the celebrants, were made to partake in contests of one sort or another before they could open their presents. Starting with an egg and spoon race -- there was only one egg, so the boys had onions. Kim was led to believe it was a hard-boiled egg that she trotted to victory, after one false start, and found that this was not so when she crushed it in triumph. Next, the three-legged race, and they all got to choose a partner. Kim must have been stinging from the egg wash, because she cheated outrageously, and Melody and David were declared the winners because Melody got a blister.
That left Randy as the only birthday fella with no win, so Tara declared that he must sing "Happy Birthday" in the style of Elmer Fudd. His mother can be very proud of her talented boy. They all got party loot bags with various items to assist with hurricane preparedness: "eau sheet" toilet rolls, plastic ponchos, rum, party poppers, bois bande wine (another Caribbean aphrodisiac, for men naturally) scrubbies for cleaning the waterline, chocolate, clean boxers, erotic novels ... just the essentials really.
Kim's birthday was the next day, and for all that we'd all planned to stay in and eat sensibly and rest up, we all ended up dinghying over to Whisper Cove Marina for pizza night.
Since then, it's been pretty quiet. Just one big get together Whisper Cove for Phil's birthday, a jazz night party at Roger's Bar on Hog Island, and a couple of pot lucks (cruisers are big on eating someone else's cooking. No wonder. There was even Jello at the last pot luck. It disappeared first.)
Roger's Bar is a hangout for both locals and cruisers. Sometimes there's more than a dozen dinghies parked on the beach, and a couple of the local wooden launches with big outboards that go flying through the anchorage late at night. Lately, there's been just as many kids and dogs as adults. You can get coolish beer, rum and coke, bbq on Sundays. John on Sea Witch has been here for four years, and he told us that the bar was knocked together by cruisers, and Roger, a Grenadian, has sort of turned it into a money-maker, albeit a very rustic one. No water, no refrigeration, electricity comes from the little generator, and there's no toilet or outhouse. Under the noonday sun there's a decidedly pissy pong out back. Roger sleeps on a lawn chair behind the bar, and emerges about 7 in the morning to rake the beach clean. We spent a couple of mornings there with Amanzi's sewing machine helping them to put together a huge sun awning for the boat. After a while, the pong and the sticky counter and the arrival of a day charter catamaran full of sunburned vacationers convinced us to find a better location. Phil very kindly offered the use of the back room at Whisper Cove, and then the use of their sewing machine after Amanzi's came to a full smoking halt. We're really enjoying Whisper Cove and the folks there - it's one of the friendliest places in the Caribbean, and Phil and Shelley are possibly the most generous and helpful people we've met thus far in Grenada (Canadians, eh?).
While we worked on the awning, Randy's been working on the rowing dinghy. He fiberglassed and epoxied the bottom on the foredeck of ND, then towed it to the beach, and did the messy grinding there. It still needs sanding and painting inside, but we took it for a row this morning, and the neighbours were all "oooh," and "aaaah." She goes some fast and smooth you, and it's great fun. Once he gets all the bits and pieces tiddlied up, we'll have a proper christening. Lord, another party.
Grocery store note: On Wednesday, Kim and I applied for our customer discount cards at the IGA in Grand Anse. First we were told they'd be ready in 10 days to 2 weeks. Then another lady told us we could pick them up on Friday. I was there on Saturday, and was told, "deys ready, but dey not laminated yet. You can get dem on Monday." Just about everything moves with the same blinding speed and efficiency. We took Nancy around to Martin's Marina for fuel and water a few days ago. We called on the VHF first and let them know we were coming. There was no one on the dock, so I went to the office and the girl said, "I call someone." I took an hour and a half to get fuel and water and the bill for same. Granted, it's a long walk down the dock. We're learning to live with GMT - Grenada Maybe Time.
See below for birthday pictures.
posted by Susan at 4:29 PM
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