Dis an Dat

Current Location: Grenada Marine boatyard, St Davids, Grenada

Wow. It's been hot since we've been back.

As usual the change from UK family life to foreign country cruising life was abrupt and surprising. This time it was the slogans on the local cars and minibuses that emphasised the difference. In England you might rarely see a souped-up Cortina with "Darren loves Shaz" across the windscreen. Here in Grenada we started to write down some of the slogans we saw after seeing "Doggy Style" emblazoned across a windscreen. Here are some more of our favourites...

"Less friends, more money" - on a paying minibus/taxi
"De baddest and de meanest"
"XS Meat"
"Godfather"
"Road Spinners"
"Under de Blood" - what?

But the best just has to be "Birds don't eat guava in mango time". So what's that all about then and why on earth did someone spend valuable time and money getting it made and stuck on?


We've fallen back into the off season cruising lifestyle where conversations are from boat to boat propped high up in the air rather than bobbing serenely on the water. It can be dangerous. You clamber up and down ladders, usually carrying too much on often slippery rungs trying to evade the next torrential downpour. At this time of year the yard is starting to get busier as people arrive to start their preparations for the new season. The noise of antifoul being sanded off, brackets being welded on and newly hoisted flapping sails fill the air. I've spent several long sessions up the mast replacing the wind speed instrument and VHF aerial which were both affected by the strong winds during the Atlantic crossing and Gilly has been stalwartly doing the shitty "blue" (as opposed to "pink") job of sanding the hull in preparation for the new antifoul. Well done Gilly. Jobs are actually going pretty well and we are a bit ahead of schedule. I still have to replace the forestay (the wire the front sail goes on) together with its furler and we also need to sort out the rudder bearing (well actually there are no bearings just three hefty chunks of steel turning inside three even heftier chunks of steel). The VHF aerial is still not completed either so there is at least one more trip to make up to the top of the mast.

It's not all work though. Saturdays are now becoming "hash days" (yes Wendy and Barrie we've finally succumbed). The Hash House Harriers seem to spring up wherever there are Brits (in particular) abroad. You all drive/cycle/catch a bus out to some neat place in the country (read jungle) and do a paper chase. At least one running route and one walking. Then, in Grenada at least, you eat traditional "oil down", a fiendish concoction including pigs' ears and "dog turd" dumplings [other sustenance may also be available] and drink lots of beer. Otherwise know as "drinkers with a running problem" it's a great place to catch up with old friends and meet new ones. We opted for the walk last week as we were still not acclimatised and it was around 30 degrees. As it happened it was pretty easy and we made it round without a problem. There were students from St George's University, sailors from many nationalities and some extremely fit Grenadans.

The Start

Yesterday though Fizzy and I decided we would do "The Run". Wow. It began high above the Caribbean Sea and for the next two hours we bashed through the jungle, scrambled up watercourses, slithered down banks and leapt from bamboo trunk to bamboo trunk. We climbed high up above the starting point and then just as we thought we were finishing, the trail led down and down. Before we knew it we were down on the beach at Black Bay, with its dark volcanic sand. Down at the sea meant we had to climb right back up again, this time via a 40m dark cave filled with (vampire?) bats with a little hole to scramble out of at the other end. An amazing afternoon.

On the road, before heading off into the jungle

Hashing is not the only exercise though. We've also been to yoga. Once in the gorgeous environment that is St George's Medical University overlooking the sea. Once at Prickly Bay (the most famous bay on the island) where we were put through our paces by a Frenchman who must have been from the French equivalent of the SAS or from the French Foreign Legion. All the yoga I've ever done before has been relatively gentle. This was not gentle. In fact at one stage "Downward Dog" got so hard I sicked up into my own mouth. Yuck!

And last week we went dinghy sailing for the first time in years. It was blowing a bit as we arrived at Le Phare Blu and we were all a bit nervous (at least Fizzy, Gill and I were; Jack was really up for it). We had a great day though. We lost the first race, drifting backwards over the start line to begin but then went on to win several losers races before being defeated in the final by an expert Hobie sailor. We were well chuffed as we picked up our third prize and certificate. Jack was not!!

A perfect start....and the Douches are ahead

Third place for the Hobie virgins. Where's Jack then?

Oh yes. Big news. For the first time in 43 years Gill and I did some "real" dancing. Salsa!!

Please, please, please. Do not tread on my toes.

Today we are off to Jenny's house. She is an expat who lives out here up in the mountains where she grows amazing vegetables and makes fruit juices from her fruit trees. This might get a bit messy as we are due there at 12.30 for lunch at 4.00pm. Anyway Gilly is hard at work cooking up some Turkish mezes for starters so I'll finish for now.