Tobago Cays and Beyond

So one day while enjoying an excess of rum punch at the weekly Thursday night jump up steel pans extravaganza at Frangipani, I bought drinks for a guy who only had Euros - which they wouldn't take at the bar. I'll be using Euros at some point, right? Francis introduced me to his friend Sam and we all became fast friends. They had just arrived in Bequia that evening but are down here running running charters throughout the Caribbean on Sam's boat, the Zenaida, a 50 ft sailing yacht with multiple cabins.
Over the next few days, it so happened that Russell, my captain, was expecting friends in for a visit and would be quite busy anyway, so I took the opportunity to jump ship and hop aboard the Zenaida for an in between charters excursion to the Tobago Cays which Russell had said were a must see - the jewel of the Grenadines. So we sailed south and had a gorgeous day for sailing. We were almost immediately joined by dolphins leaping and twining about our bow. Francis and Sam are both skippers of their own boats and Francis is also a sailing instructor while Sam is a dive master. Between the two of them I learned much about how to raise and trim sails, maintain a course, set an anchor.

We spent 3 days tooling about - snorkeling, swimming and enjoying the intense beauty around us. It is difficult to describe the colors that were before us. As if every shade of blue imaginable were laid out in interlocking patterns, backlit and glowing, and swirled together at the edges like oil colors drifting on the surface of water....swirling and swirling around each other but never quite mixing. The aqua colors were so bright you felt the sun was below the water ready to rise at any moment. While enjoying this lovely display, we saw a sea turtle serenely paddle past our boat. One evening at Union Island we took our dinghy to a bar that was built on a pile of conch shells in the middle of the reef. There was no other way to get there and no land around it. It was it's own tiny island where people came in dinghy's galore to watch the sun go down over a rum punch with fresh grated nutmeg and tasty popcorn.

We had a lovely time wandering, sailing and adventuring. The best part for all of you - is that they are still down here. For those of you slowly dying from lack of sunshine or freezing in the cold and in need of a little tropical adventure - I highly recommend that you give these guys a call. You can find all their information on www.IslandBoundCharters.com and if it is in your power you should come on down here for a little respite. If you have never been sailing before - this is your chance to give it a try in a place where there is rarely bad weather - the winds are almost always good, and they take care of everything for you - so you don't have to worry about it being MY kind of adventure. I know some people like things a little more comfortable than the way I tend to travel. They even have flush toilets on their boat, and private bathrooms for each cabin. A little taste of luxury in a gorgeous location. Anyway, I've met a lot of people in the tourism industry over the years and when you set something up from afar you never quite know what you'll be getting - so I can tell you right now that these guys were extremely helpful, thoughtful and expert in their fields, as well as being entertaining, humorous, and just plain fun to be around. I never wanted to leave. They can do day charters, long weekends, week long or whatever you are looking for. If you have never been sailing, I have to say it's amazing and something everyone should try sometime. And I can't think of a better place to do it than down here in "every day is beautiful land". Anyway - if you have any trouble reaching them just let me know and I can hook you up. I'm in Martinique now - so if you happen to book a charter you should book it up here - then you can visit ME!!!!


Anyway....we returned to Bequia and they still had a day to spare so we rented a moke for the day. For those of you unfamiliar with a moke, it's like a go-cart or dune buggy with no doors and an engine like a lawn mower. Needless to say, tons of fun. We drove on every road on the island of Bequia - as far as we dared. I mentioned before how steep some of those roads were - we often weren't sure if the engine would get us up the hills. Some of the roads were also on the beach made of shifting sands and tufts of beach grass. When we came to speed bumps we all had to get out while Francis drove over the bumps because we couldn't clear the muffler otherwise. Made much easier by the fact that there were no doors. It was an adventurous day. Among many other things, we visited the Old Hegg turtle sanctuary where Mr. King collects sea turtle eggs and raises the turtles until they are 5 years old, then releases them back into the wild - thus greatly increasing the chance of survival for these endangered creatures. There were turtles everywhere and even one who danced if you caressed her shell.



Later that night we discovered several full moon parties in full swing - on the back side of the island. So, with our trusty moke and Francis as our designated driver and our new friend Robbie from Fresno who was hitchhiking to South America, we all trucked off to see what was up. The weather was perfect. The moon was full. And the wind was pure power. The first party was at a yacht club with a grassy area out back before the beach - with wooden beach chairs under palm trees and the full moon gazing down. A group of local people were jamming on a variety of instruments in a local style of music with an eclectic assortment of covers thrown in - including some Bob Marley (of course) and "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw?" The second party was at Friendship Bay with a bonfire blazing on the beach. The fire warmed and exhilarated. We enjoyed this party as well with good music inside and people spilling out down the beach. But by far the best spot that night was at a point on a bluff overlooking the windward side of the island - a cliff dropping away to the ocean below, where we stopped for a moment to stand out on the rocks. I stood on top of one rock sticking out over the edge with my arms raised up and my face lifted to the sky. The wind buffeted me like to lift me from the earth and the moonglow poured down filling me with light. I felt as though I could stand there and drop my roots down, deep into the earth, root there on that rock like a tree with my branches raised up to the light and blissfully enjoy that wind enveloping me for eternity. The wind that never stops is what I will always remember most about Bequia, my first port of call.

I'll leave you with a beautiful sunset to bring with you through your day....
If you want to see any of the rest of my photos - they are all uploaded on www.flickr.com
my user name is nomad poet. hope you enjoy the photos.....

signing off from Bequia - next stop : Martinique!
see you on the flip side.....
NOMAD POET

Images of Bequia

Admiralty Bay is a horseshoe shaped harbor. An azure respite nestled in the green foliage of Port Elizabeth's outstretched arms. It is a bustling yet calm anchorage with at least a hundred yachts, water taxis, dive boats, dinghy traffic, the mail boat and the Bequia Ferry system running 4-6 times a day which wakes our boat and has it leaping at the gates. I've found this to be a simple way to tell the time of day. When the boat starts jumping, the ferry has arrived - and the ferry is always on time. Though time is somewhat meaningless here. Most days we find ourselves asking each other - does anyone know what day it is? Is it still January?

One of the first things I noticed in Bequia was the frigate birds, which the local people call "man of war". I saw them first in Thailand near Kho Phi Phi circling high in the sky like a legion of pterydactyls with their huge wing span and bent angle wing shape and long necks. They make me think of something very primal and ancient. This is how I recognized them when I saw them again in the harbor soaring through the sky then dive bombing into the ocean from 50ft up. I was sitting on the deck of the boat one day, reading about physics and wind and the dynamics of sailing....when suddenly there was a large splash right next to me - like something fell out of the sky. I looked up surprised to see nothing there. Then a bird burst out from the water with barely a stumble through the transition from swimming to flight, a fish dangling in his beak. In fact, I dont think it was really swimming at all. It was as if it just flew through water as easily as through air. They are stunning to watch, graceful in the air as they circle and expertly accurate when they strike.
I've walked many of the roads in Bequia. It's basically a big ridge of an island with steep sides flowing down all around. There are some crazy roads on hills that go straight up the mountainside. You'd be sure a car would just fall over backwards. The roads are all overgrown with lush vegetation, lianas trailing, air plants growing out of every nook and cranny, strange fruit hanging from unfamiliar vines.





The street dogs are everywhere, lying about the place, eager to make friends - especially if you are eating - but a bit wary and befuddled by the concept of play. There are lizards, about a foot long, grayish with sky blue iridescent spots, that bask in the roadside sun, then scurry off at the sound of your approaching feet.


The sun here is gorgeous, and almost always there. It can be quite hot on land, but the trade winds make all the difference. Out on the boat, the wind never stops and you never feel the heat. When it does rain, it is often just for a brief downpour and then after 5 or 10 minutes back to being sunny and hot again. Because of these sudden downpours, we have rain drills - where we run around closing all the hatches and ports as quickly as we can. You learn to sleep lightly and wake at the slightest patter of raindrops.
The people here have been very friendly, though at times a bit overbearing if you are female. I've got probably 20 local West Indian guys professing their undying love on a daily basis - because they saw me walking down the street - or because I happened to smile in their general direction. But they have been sweet in their adoration, as opposed to pushy - which I have been told is not uncommon. And most of the time they are happy if you will give them a dance of which there are endless opportunities. You can dance to steel pans and calypso at Frangipani, reggae at the Devil's Table or late night hiphop at the Penthouse - a rather shady little shack that serves drinks after hours and allows you to dance and hang out with mostly locals as opposed to mostly tourists and yachtees.
The Rasta market is the place to go for fresh fruits and veggies. Avocados the size of a grapefruit are my favorite choice of purchases from the various rastafari with their dreads piled up more than a foot high on their heads all tucked into their red, gold, green and black knit tams. They charge some crazy prices and fawn all over you trying to get you to buy from their "shop" (actually just a table) as opposed to the guy right next to them who has all the same produce. I often ended up buying one thing from each "shop" just to placate them . I know - I am a pushover. I was never good at bargaining or market buying even after all my time in China. Only after living there for years when I really understood what things should cost did I ever feel comfortable haggling, and by then they all knew me and only charged me normal prices anyway. In the end the rastas will avoid giving you back your change by giving you a "gift" of another small piece of fruit or some fresh nutmeg or a slightly manky mango or something else you didn't ask for and have absolutely no need of. Good times!! I must say though, that starfruit and mango have become daily breakfast food for me....not a bad thing. As far as other foods here - well, apparently these guys invented barbeque....and do they ever make it well. The mutton, which is generally goat meat, is quite delicious and they make rice dishes with vegetables as well as potato and macaroni salads. But my favorite treat by far has been the roti - which is meat and potato curry wrapped up in a doughy pastry of the consistency of fresh made uncooked pasta in the shape of a flour tortilla - so you have yourself a little pastry bundle of meaty spicy tastiness.YUM!
Sorry for the rather rough quality of this blog - still learning how to get these photos in here...

the Lady Pauline

My Home of the moment...

quote for the day

This quote was sent to me by a dear friend and fellow adventurer....

from Spirits of the Air (Kurt Diemberger)

"Home is not simply that place or country where you were born, or lived as a child. It widens... and as life passes, your roots pentrate the ground in a number of places. This becomes both a gift and a burden. The more and better you understand, contentment and longing become your inseparable companions."

refrigerator magnet poetry

a voice without fear
recognizes bliss
imagines a journey
without limitations
the meaning in everything.
I follow beauty
in a million directions
close my eyes sometimes
and the universe
is loud enough
to question itself
whispers to me
of truth
and the moon
language echoes my vision
an ocean
in a thousand pieces
dreams in color
and knows
this life
is full
but not of fear

Paying Attention

What another crazy buzzing world I have entered. I could talk endlessly of all the things I have been learning.... the conservation of energy one of the most all pervasive. Every light, every switch, every single instrument or draw of energy is paid attention to because it depletes the battery - and the battery on the boat is our life's blood. It is that which keeps our cold food cold, our radio and computers functioning, our lights on, and instruments reading correctly. Every day is one long attempt to keep the incoming solar and wind power ahead of our electricity use so we don't go into defecit and have to run the engine to charge the battery. It's not the end of world, but who wants to listen to the maddening roar and smell the stink of diesel, marring the peace and tranquility surrounding us. And it uses fuel too... which costs money, whereas wind and sunlight are both free and plentiful.
It is a living meditation in being attentive to the small things in life and allowing them to become an all encompassing awareness of every ounce of energy that we use in a day. It is the same for water. Here we are with water, water everywhere but not a drop to drink. We pay attention to how we wash our dishes, clothes, ourselves... using as little water as possible. We can make water on board using reverse osmosis - turning sea water to fresh, but that requires electricity and if we're depleted then that requires diesel as well. And the whole point is to be self sufficient and not paying for our daily lives... So we swim in the ocean multiple times a day, wash clean with bird baths, or by turning off the water to soap up between rinses, sometimes scrubbing the dishes in sea water then rinsing in fresh. All of these things have made me pay more attention to energy and water use - and less at the same time. Because there is a pattern of balance that can be reached at which you are living in a way which now feels normal and yet not wasting an inch - and the wind and sun CAN keep up - and you are beholden to none...
Until the wind dies and the skies cloud over....
Then it's a dreary humid day below decks with the engine roaring.
But it's a beautiful dream.

And most days here it is the dream that is real
NOT the rain.

My Mother Sea

What is it that I want to say?
There is a secret dream in my heart. I have hinted at it to a few... in different times and different ways. I want to master a skill - to become so good at it that it is like breathing or blinking and takes no effort or rather the effort it takes is of a level to which I am so used that it seems like no effort at all - as when, while hiking the Appalachian Trail, 15 miles a day became easy for us - so normal we barely felt winded and would attempt 20 or more without much thought. With so many interests I have flitted through my life like a hummingbird - tasting all but truly knowing none - because there is so much out there to taste and so little of me to know it all - or is it that I have known it all before and some things I just need a taste to remind me - while others are the heart's true home. I have met people who have been doing one thing their whole life - and they are masters of their world. I am intrigued and envious of these people. I have been the ultimate in well roundedness - have exposed myself to countless possibilities and have dabbled in wide varieties of worlds but have felt like a poser in many of my worlds just getting by - by the skin of my teeth - because i haven't done anything long enough to truly master it. But how oh how do you choose one thing to focus on when the world is so full of amazing things to be....
As I sit on the bow at any time of day - I never tire of the water. I think of that morning with Donald in LA, lying on the beach, how peaceful and serene and completely safe and sheltered I felt . I have said so often that it is only by the ocean that I feel like I can truly relax and let go of all the endless meaningless yabber that goes on in my head. The ocean around me talks to the ocean within and the cacophonic maelstrom steadies and joins it's rhythmic beat - slow and patient - like one who has all the time in the world, and knows it's own strength, and need not bother with silly little bits of leaf and twig that flow away like flotsam and jetsam. I watch the surface of the water spin away in a myriad of colors - some which have no place in the spectrum of water... red and orange iridescence like drops of oil smearing over a rippled surfacing bending and stretching and rejoining it's shape - greys and whites flecked with rose skudding across a rough chop dancing with the wind in a regular pattern like checkerboard mince tossed with light....

when these fill my mind
there is no room for anything else
as it has all washed away anyway

for the first time in my life
i am learning to listen
i am learning to be still
i am learning to tie a bowline

all good things

The Sound of her Wings

Welcome to my world!
Nomad Poet has found her wings and is learning to unfurl them. I am she that wanders, daughter of she that ponders and I have set my feet this time upon a watery path . I have chosen to document this journey so that other fellow wanderers at heart may join in. As I write this I am sitting in the cockpit of the 36' Cape Dory cutter sailing yacht which has been my home for the last 3 weeks. We are anchored here in Admiralty Bay at the island of Bequia in St Vincent and the Grenadines in the southern part of the Caribbean. I have joined Russell, the captain of the Lady Pauline, as his crew of no experience in an effort to do a thing which I have oft dreamed of but rarely spoken - because it somehow seemed out of reach. I will play the chameleon again. I will learn the wind and waves like they be my breath and blood. And so here on the ocean, which is my one true home, I will finally learn to fly.

For those of you new to my world, let me explain a bit. Though wandering has always been in my soul, I have on several occasions settled down to a "normal" life and have been quite happy during these more settled times - enjoying to the utmost home and hearth and pets and gardens and cozy couches and long epic movies and art and stable relationships..... but something always seems to spur me on - send me off to the next great adventure. Of which I have had many....several sailing adventures in the Florida Keys, Dry Tortugas and Bahamas when I was 18 & 19, hiked all 2147 miles of the Appalachian Trail when I was 21, been to 43 of the 50 states including Hawaii and Alaska , spent several years working in the fishing industry in a remote fishing village on an island in Alaska, spent 3 years living on the Tibetan Plateau in western China, traveled through parts of China, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, New Zealand, Turkey, England, Peru, Canada, & Mexico....

....and now, somehow, I've turned up in the Grenadines living on a boat. I found myself at a moment in time when it was time for my moment. My big, obvious, staring me in the face opportunity to reach for the dream that could be my life. To reach without fear of falling. To reach without looking back.

And so... the plan?

4 months at sea in the Caribbean learning to sail. And if the effort is valiant and the learning is sufficient then May is a leaping off point - as we head across the Atlantic for the Azores, and Portugal, and the Mediterranean and beyond... Come with me on this journey if you choose - and see where the wind takes us, where the ripples converge...