RTW Leg 27: The Windward Islands

The Caribbean from Trinidad to Antigua*

Back on Broadsword after a break in the UK for the hurricane season

37 degrees centigrade.  The air is heavy and still, and you can smell the hang of the dust. The body glistens with a sticky film of sweat making your clothes cling like cellophane.  There is no respite, not even a swim, the sea is filthy and uninviting. This is the boat yard in Trinidad, and we are suffering Scotsmen returned from a cold wet wintery Scotland where a wooly jumper is an essential survival aid.  The climatic contrast is stark and on day one, looking at a very long list of jobs, the unspoken question on both our minds is; what on earth are we doing?

Dwaine, our Rastafarian boat guardian, greets us with his big Caribbean smile with “man, you guys have put on weight, you’ve gotten all fat man”.  Thanks Dwaine, good to see you too, ever thought of the diplomatic corps?  Dwaine is our star.  Twice a month he visits the boat to check on damp, mold and invasions of invasive species, ants and cockroaches; public enemy’s no. 1 and 2.  He takes photographs and sends them to me and reports that Broadswords in good shape. I sleep well at night.

A bit like a poly tunnel, the shrink wrapping protects the boat from rain, dust and the harmful UV rays.

Broadsword has been on the hard since May and its now January.  Lucy and I had planned to return in November when the hurricane season ends and sailing resumes, but I was delayed by two months with a work project.  Return, we now have, and boat needs to be put back together.  The biggest task is bending the sails back on, easier said than done, particularly when the deck is 12 feet from the ground, a hard and unforgiving landing should one trip and tumble.  The running rigging, all the safety equipment, the bimini, spray hood and the stack pack to be reassembled.  The hull must be wrapped in protective coats of antifoul, an annual job without which our bottom would accumulate an aquatic garden of weed and barnacles resulting in the hydrodynamics of a brick. Our VHF antenna at the mast head needed replaced along with the cable down the mast. The engines require serviced and the genset repaired.  We had allowed just one week for this myriads of tasks and we just about got it all done in time.  All in the insufferable heat and humidity of the Trinidadian Tropics.

Clockwise from top right: A wasp nest is destroyed, Mr Gold - general fixer, Falco - brilliant mechanic, antifouling the bow thruster tunnel, repairing the big red gennaker, servicing the Suzuki, repairing a seized mast winch.

On 15th January, Broadsword was relaunch ready for the final chapter of our pelagic adventures, setting course for Scotland via Greenland and a lot in between.  On our immediate horizon we were looking forward to a visit from Lily and her boyfriend Wade in St Lucia.  We then intended to sail back down to Grenada to stay in a hotel with friends from Scotland and then work our way back north up to Antigua where our son Harvey and his mate Dougal would pay a visit.  We had around three weeks to get to St Lucia for Lily’s arrival and could work north slowly enjoying the delights of Grenada, The Grenadines and St Vincent. 

In the top picture, note the center board is down and the top half still needs antifouled.

Whilst passing through Grenada we celebrated the completion of our circumnavigation where we crossed our original outbound path when on our way to the Panama Canal in the covid times of early 2022.  36,000 miles and three and a half years later, we have visited twenty six countries with more inky stamps to add to our busy passports before our return home.  We enjoyed the moment with quiet reflection, but we have work to do with a sea and an ocean ahead to sail.

Our shredded ensign is retired having loyaly kept us Brittish for our three and half year circumnavigation

Grenada also gave us a joyous reconnection with s/y Rehua, who we first met in South Africa.  Seathan, a larger-than-life Scot, and Audrie, an enchanting Belgian, accosted us on our pontoon in The Waterfront Marina in Cape Town with the unusual greeting “my brother designed your logo”, pointing to the Broadsword motif on… Broadsword.  It transpires that Seathan had taken a picture of the Broadsword of Leith logo and sent it to his brother in Edinburgh, declaring, “look what I’ve found, a boat frae Leith!”  To which his brother replied, “I designed that logo”.  The world is small.  Rehua and Broadsword have been constant companions since Grenada, our paths often diverge but soon enough converge again like the confluence of a highland burn.  We last saw them in Barbuda with an epic night in a gorgeous beach restaurant after which we stumbled to Broadsword where we cracked and finished a bottle of 12-year-old Bunnahabhain that my son had generously given me.  I have no doubt we will see them again, down the line as they say.

A great night out at Uncle Roddy's on Barbuda then back to Broadsword. Top picture clockwise from me: Audrie, Seathan, Lucy, Aeneas, Harvey and Dougal.

We were a little nervous about Lily and Wade’s visit.  Advance notice had been issued that Wade doesn’t like water, was not a good swimmer, had a pathological fear for sharks, easily succumbed to sea sickness and from a young age was deeply suspicious of anything that resembled a boat. Combined with this incongruous start, that to venture anywhere interesting in the Caribbean involved a lively passage between islands.  The channels between the islands are exposed to the full force of the trade winds and the strong currents they fuel.  Between the south tip of St Lucia and the north point of St Vincent lie 25 nautical miles of tempest.  Winds of over 25 kts and a beam sea with three-meter waves are common, challenging sailing by anyone’s standards.  Wade’s introduction to sailing would be like teaching a puppy to swim by throwing it off a bridge. Remarkably, we had a fabulous and fun week with the two of them and Wade admirably took to sailing like a duck to water. Relieved of his armbands, he showed great fortitude in often hairy conditions.  The highlight?  Too many to mention but dinner at Basil’s Bar in Mustique has to be up there with Bezos’ 127m yacht Koru parked in the bay as an extravagant embellishment to an already stunning vista.

From top left: Lily, Wade and Lucy in Soufrier, refreshments, fish market, a great night at Basil's Bar with Rehua crew, and Bezo's Koru (127m) and support vessel Abeona (75m) in Mustique.

We had a tough sail back to St Lucia to return Lily and Wade for their three days of luxing it out in a hotel before their flights home.  Meanwhile Lucy and I reconciled that to sail all the way south to Grenada to meet our friends, to then sail all the way back again in these not so easy conditions was as inviting as running the Gulf of Corryvreckan on a lilo.  We booked a plane.

Interesting airline. German operated, South African crew, Caribbean routes.

Our friends Mark and Carole were staying for two weeks with their friends Davie and Moira in a five-star all-inclusive and they generously allowed the gate crashers in on their party.  We booked a room for three nights of indulgence and indolence and having never done the five star all-inclusive thing before, were unsure of what to expect.  We played hard during the day and partied harder at night.  One day, Mark and I went diving.  We waded out to the dive boat and as we were settling in with the usual pre-dive anxieties, I realised I’d left my fins behind and had to rush back to shore to retrieve. Mark of course mocked me relentlessly for my schoolboy error.  But retribution was close to hand when Mark was seen struggling into his shorty wet suit to realise the difficulties were encouraged by it being back to front and inside out.  Oh, the joy I had!

The lily pond outside our bedroom, our bedroom, drinks on demand from the beach, with Mark & Carole.

Our trip was a most welcome and wonderful respite from Broadsword. Lucy and I have learned over the last four years that living in the sometimes claustrophobic confines of a small yacht in often difficult and challenging seas, requires amelioration with occasional excursions to smart hotels.  This is an unwritten clause in an unwritten contract with Lucy and has been instrumental in keeping the crew motivated and compliant.  Worth every penny, every time.

Back on Broadsword in St Lucia, we continued north with a brief stop in Martinique for a genset repair and stocking up of cheap provisions.  A case of Vin Blanc at  three euros a bottle made a welcome addition to the cupboard labeled “Lucy’s Lady Petrol”.  North again, a brief anchorage under the Q flag in Guadeloupe and onto Antigua where we would be joined by Harvey and Dougal.  We had two weeks to kill before they arrived and I used the time to take my Dive Master course.  We booked Broadsword into the Jolly Harbor Marina where the Antigua Scuba School operated from.  Wilder and Kristina would be my instructors for the next two weeks for what was an intensive and exhaustive experience.  I’d completed the eLearning and exams in advance and had been training hard for the physical tests which felt more like selection for the Navy Seals: A 400m free swim. An 800m swim with fins and mask.  15-minute tread water with the last two minutes with your hands in the air.  And hardest of all, 100m tow of a dive buddy, both in full dive gear.  All timed with minimum standards to hit.  And then the equipment exchange, underwater, sharing one regulator you have to exchange all kit with your dive buddy, fins, mask, weight belt, BCD and tank...executed with occasional breaths without drowning.  Harvey and Dougal arrived the day after I passed and with my shiny new qualification, I took them on a Discover Scuba Diving course with an introduction in the pool followed by leading two dives from the boat.  Neither had dived before and both were naturals.  It was a huge privilege to take them on their first dive in my first official capacity as a Dive Master.

Dive instructors Wilder and Kristina, heading out to Monk's Head, with Harvey

We set sail for Barbuda, cousin to Antigua and 35 miles in the north.  Barbuda, by contrast to Antigua is low lying, arid and sparsely populated with expansive silver white beaches embraced by shallows of turquoise waters.  It’s a relative backwater in an otherwise congested Caribbean and this of course is its appeal for those wishing to go far from the maddening crowd.  We chose to anchor of Cedar Tree point in 1.5m of water and we rewarded with exclusive use of the entire sweep of the bay for as far as the eye could see.

In 1.5m of water at Ceder Tree Point on Barbuda

Harvey and Dougal, no doubt already tiring of the old fogeys, launched the tender and headed for shore to explore.  We enjoy visitors, sharing the experience and showing off our boat which we are immeasurably proud of.  It is nevertheless an adjustment to share the space with alien intruders and compromise is never far away. However carefully you encourage new crew to do things in a particular way, the tea bag is inevitably left in the sink.  Harvey and Dougal were no exception.  They were a bit like training a new puppy, eager to please, not quite getting the hang of it, and confused over an ill placed reprimand.  Back on board, we had two days on the beautiful Barbuda before returning to Antigua for overnight at Green Island and the following day lunch at Nelsons Dockyard.  Returning to Jolly Harbour for another dive with the boys and then a tearful farewell before they left for shore and two nights at Hawksbill Hotel, a bucket of champagne waiting in their room for the honeymooners.

Beaching with Danny Boy

It’s been three months since we returned to Broadsword and the Caribbean always delivers.  However, taking the rose-tinted glasses off for one minute, it’s worth reflecting that its not always the tropical paradise the holiday brochure purports.  Crime is a constant worry, and you have to be on your toes with security, always locking your boat and tender and leaving your Cartier watch in the safe.  With the single exception of Martinique which is heavily subsidized by the French government, The Caribbean is universally expensive.  A super market shop for provisions is routinely double what you would expect to pay in the UK.  Customer service are two words not in the general vocabulary, service is at best indifferent.  Generally speaking (there are always exceptions) service staff don’t smile, say please or thank you and yet still expect a tip on top of the service charge already applied automatically to your bill.  The towns are gritty and edgy and far from welcoming beacons of hospitality.  But, I hear you implore, you can’t expect to impose your western standards on these poor third world former colonial outposts exploited beyond repair!  Perhaps not, but throughout the Pacific and the Indian Ocean, the circumstances were similar, poor impoverished third world communities of former colonial powers, and yet we were always greeted with a smile, always felt safe, and always made welcome.  That said and done, we do love the Caribbean and you simply need a mindset shift to accommodate a cultural re balance. 

Another stunning sunset. One never tires of them.

Ahead lie the Leeward Islands and Lucy will pick up the story in our next installment.  In the meantime, I am pleased to report that Broadsword is in good order and the crew are in fine fetal.

*Antigua is not in the Windward Islands. The Windward Islands most northerly island is Dominica.