Tyrell Bay (Carriacou), Grenada
I'm still in Carriacou, and what was once a partially operational generator aboard the Odessa is now kaput.
I'm agitated this afternoon. Since we've been anchored, I've been watching Captain Bill bring more and more pieces of his generator above deck (on a daily basis. I went to sleep last night expecting to be at Union Island today, but that doesn't seem to be the case.
In keeping true with Bill's nature, the repairs continue at anchor, our exit stamp from the country be damned! I think what was really pushing my button today was the lack of communication from him.
The generator is used as the primary means to charge the ships batteries, but is not required for us to sail. The motor that's used to drive the propeller can be (and has been) used to accomplish the same task. In the three (plus) weeks I've been aboard the Odessa, I've probably seen the generator on for a total of 20 minutes.
So why are we still in Carriacou on Tuesday night when he wants to be in St. Vincent this weekend? Because he's under the impression that the Caribbean's greatest mechanic is in this bay, and since his tinkering has rendered the unit completely dead, he's going to take advantage of him.
…On top of all that, I just found out that our batteries are now too depleted to even get the engine to turn over. Yay.
Now where my annoyance really starts to set in is when I keep prepping the boat and telling him the time (so that we could get underway) while he continues to let me believe we're getting out of here. By the time 2:00 rolled around, I was getting agitated that an entire day that I could've spent exploring the island had gone wasted because I was held hostage on a stationary boat.
More than obvious by this point that we wouldn't be sailing to an island that's so close I can clearly see the bay of on the horizon, I had Bill ferry me ashore on his next trip to the marina. 20 hours a day on a boat is not good for my mental health.
It felt great to catch a minibus and have it drop me off in an obscure part of the island, laving me to walk around for a few hours. I'm still really surprised with how dry the landscape is here (there's some cactus and an abundance of tall grass/sage brush).
Interestingly, this evening a former photographer from New York shared her thoughts on why religion seems to be so strong on the island(s). She explained that even 100 years after slavery had been abolished here, individuals of African decent were still not permitted to gather, except for church services. Mass became the only platform for which folks could speak (out) about politics without fear of reprisal (Agatha said, "No white guy was going to walk into a black church").
I hear the magnificent mechanic is going to be here in the morning, I wonder if we'll be sailing tomorrow. I'm going to start looking for a new boat at our next anchorage. I want to see this part of the Caribbean, and time has run out with the Odessa.