Anchored in Grenada
Prickly Bay, Grenada
I love the feeling of being in a new country—the currency, the language(s), and the unique cultural nuances are a delight to experience.
The Odessa anchored at Prickly Bay, in the southwest corner of the island. It's odd, with as many ships that are anchored here, there's almost no infrastructure in the immediate area to support them (save for two restaurants and a customs/immigration office). If you want to do anything, you've got to catch a 10 minute minibus ride into St. George (which costs less than $1 USD, but stop running after 8-9:00 at night—making it difficult to do anything social in town in the evenings).
I was chatting with my minibus driver, riding shotgun beside him, when I saw Andy walking down the street in St. George. He had arrived two days prior and quickly debriefed me on the surrounding area.
It seems that Hurricane Ivan really did a number on this island in 2004, wiping out masses of buildings and spice plantations. Speaking of spices, apparently Grenada is widely known for producing nutmeg and a handful of other tasty seasonings.
The bay and surrounding area of St. George has a nice feel to it—and I still love seeing houses panted in these warm, energetic colors. I've got a strong desire to jump on a few minibuses and have them run me around the island; something I would have considered doing tomorrow, but every business and store seems to shut down on the weekends here (especially on Sunday). Instead, I'm going to try and meet up with Andy and hit a long stretch of beach that cruise ships like to ferry people over to.
It was just after sunset by the time I made it back to Prickly Bay, and I needed to find a ride back to the Odessa. Camping by the docks, I waited for an opportunity to try and solicit a ride in someones dingy (one of the pitfalls of being captive to only one ship to shore boat for three people). It was drizzling slightly when I called out to a man preparing to push off.
Agreeing to take me aboard, we were only a minute or two from shore when the sky just opened up and started dumping rain. Visibility was horrible, and I was getting completely drenched (fearing my unprotected camera in the cargo pocket of my shorts was getting soaked).
We zoomed area the area where I thought the Odessa was at, but it was raining so badly we couldn't find her (I was wondering if they had perhaps pulled anchor and relocated elsewhere). Finally, I just asked if I could use the radio from his boat, and were sped off to the opposite side of the bay.
I chatted for about an hour aboard Captain Axel's 14 meter yacht (a nice, attractive, and comfortable boat). Over a few glasses of wine, I learned that he was a 47 year old (former) pub designer from Germany who was going to be sailing north with a local Grenadian marine owner. By the end of our chat, Axel had offered me a ride up to Martinique (his stop before heading onto the Dominican Republic).
He's a good guy with a tempting offer, and a nice yacht (setup for charters with three private cabins), but I wonder about the islands I'd be skipping if I advanced to Martinique so quickly (plus the week of solid sailing). We exchanged contact information, and radioed the Odessa for a pickup as the rain let up. It's great to have the option available, and I'll be curious to see if I end up acting on it.
Andy says my personality type is to consistently "hedge my bets"—meaning to him that I like to keep my options open at the cost of committing to a decision. In investment terms, hedging is usually when securities are purchased on both sides of a risk, so that any loss in one security is countered by gains in the other securities. Is this such a bad thing? I like mitigating risk with options.