
If you look close at the picture you can see Mismo peeking out from under my shirt. That's where she likes to ride sometimes when we are underway!
Clifton is where the customs house is and this is Friday we want to get anchored there and check in before the weekend. The bay by Clifton is unusual. It is sort of horseshoe shape due to a reef right in the middle of the bay. We came in on the western leg and stopped at a marina to take on water. The popular anchorage here is just to the west of a large reef - so between two reefs. Nice and flat water. We tried to anchor twice and couldn’t get the thing to stick. Once that happens I am out of there because even if it does stick now I’m only gong to think about the two times it wouldn’t. All night.
By the way this trying and then re-trying is a bit of an adventure with some real wind and shoals and other boats. When we weighed anchor that morning it was great. With plenty of sea room and light air, Sue can stay down in the v-berth and organize chain into the chain locker as I crank it in with my new manual windlass. When the anchor is up she comes back to the helm and drives the boat. Here in Clifton though that wasn’t completely possible. After some cranking I’d either be blown too far off the anchor to be able to haul it or we’d be getting too close to other boats. In either case Sue would have to leave the v-berth and run to the helm. This was repeated about 6 times until we finally left. Sue was so happy with all of this!
So we didn’t check in and are technically in St. Vincent (Union Island is the most southerly island of the Grenadines which are all part of St. Vincent.) waters illegally. This is no big deal and we’ve done this before. You go in the next day and say you arrived after they were closed. It’s all cool. But, the customs house is in Clifton and we’re in Chatham bay. Now a number of people have told me that you can walk from Chatham Bay to Clifton. Seems like a long walk but I’m game. Sue’s ankle is still not 100% so she stays back while I venture off.
Now a sane man would at least glance at a map before he took off. An intelligent man would take one with. But the man that once put a spinning top on his head only to lose a hunk of flesh and hair just marches off thinking …”How hard can it be”?
I came to a fork in the road. Well, it seemed to me that I’m walking toward Clifton roughly and have Chatham bay on my right and want to keep it that way so I take the right fork. I’m hoping I don’t have to double back. After a few minutes I hear a bell and a bicycle rider is coming behind me. I ask him if I’m on the way to Clifton. He nods and just points his hand straight ahead. OK, got it.
Now I’m on it. The road to Clifton! This is one of those walks now where you come to a turn hoping to see city around the corner and all you see is more road. And goats. Road. Goats. More road. I’m dying.
I finally make it into town and accomplish all my missions. Checked in with customs at the air field. Got money out of the money machine. Bought some groceries (but not much cause I might be carrying it all the way back too!)
Well, there’s no way I’m hiking back. I’m pretty sure I can’t retrace my steps and not sure I’d even want to! So, I talk to a taxi driver and ask him how much to get me as close as possible to Chatham Bay. 20 Ec. . . About 8 buck. OK!
At the top where I took the dirt instead of the concrete he even shows me and easier way down rather than the rock and cactus strewn path I took up. My knee is screaming and I’m cut from nettles. My shirt is sticking to me and I’ve torn my hat. It’s noon. I’m done.
Sue spots me walking along the shore and picks me up in dinghy (which is leaking air by the way). Oh man what a GREAT swim I had once I got back on Enee. I’m still not sure how I got so screwed up but I know I’m NOT walking back to Clifton any time soon.
It's a few days later now and we are in Mayreau about 5 miles north of Union. More adventures to come! Thanks for all the comments. Keep 'em coming!
3 comments:
that walk sounds *crazy* and super frustrating. I know when I get lost because my inner compass gets screwy puts me in the best mood. good thing in chicago everything is numbered nicely :)
"Two roads, diverged in a woods, and I, the idiot...." I think it goes something like that.
Rich P
You call it the Union Island Death March. Us desk bound northern sailors who are still waiting to put the boats in the water call it paradise.
Terry
Waiting to Launch in Lake Michigan
Post a Comment