Canouan

Canouan (Pronounced Can-Oh-Wan) Sometimes it’s hard to get much of a feel for a place by reading the cruising guide…take Canouan for instance. After the terribly rolly night at Mustique, we were really just looking for a calm anchorage so we could get some sleep. Canouan was only 11 miles away, on the way to the Tobago Cays, and on the chart it looked like we might be able to tuck into the north east corner of the harbor and get out of the swells, so we decided to give it a shot.

As we turned into the half moon shaped harbor we pulled the sails down and motored in to the clear, pale green shallows, finding a decent looking mooring and tied up to it…no rocking and rolling - YES! Unfortunately, five minutes after we sat down, a guy in a small boat came up and told us we couldn’t use that mooring, as it belonged to a charter boat company….grrrr. But he just happened to have a mooring available that was in an even better spot, so we moved, and it really was better. J A blessedly calm night resulted in a great night’s sleep. J J

When we went ashore the next day we weren’t quite sure what to expect. We tied up to a hotel dock and walked up to the first person we saw and asked where we could take our garbage (a favorite cruiser question, which is often met with a wrinkled nose, a few grumpy words and either complete rejection or an extended arm pointing to a dumpster location). This morning however, Sam smiled and lead us to the side of the hotel where their trash bins were, and gave us some more info on ice, internet and stores, and bid us good day. That’ll work!

The island is pretty small, like all the Grenadines, and not exactly what you’d describe as “upscale” - at the other end of the spectrum from Mustique. With around a thousand full time residents, mostly engaged in fishing and farming, it’s what I suppose you could call mostly working class, with lots of little homes scattered across the hillsides, some with absolutely incredible views. Unfortunately the awesome views are often framed by loose trash scattered around, but the people are friendly, and we walked all over the island.

At the top of one hill we were able to look south across a few miles of blue Caribbean water to the Tobago Cays, our planned southern terminus and what for me had become something of the Holy Grail, or The Promised Land. I thought of Martin Luther King’s speech about being able to see the Promised Land, but maybe not being able to reach it himself. As we gazed across I felt energized though, and felt sure we really would get there in a couple of days. Say Amen!

We took a funny little goat path back towards what passes for “town,” and stepped into a little store to see what they had. Emmy asked the lady at the register where we might get some good local food. She picked up the phone and called “Tante Joy” to see if she had any fish today. She did, and the lady took us outside to point out directions to the restaurant (which had no sign of any kind). We thanked her and headed up the road, turning at the fork and looking for the lady who had been told to, “Look out for the interracial couple coming up your way.”

There she was, standing on an open porch of what looked like a regular little house, but the covered front porch had a long table, at which four men were eating lunch. We introduced ourselves, sat down at the table and ordered…the men were obviously local working guys, and had been talking up a storm as we walked up, but were now silent, sort of sizing us up out of the corners of their eyes. After a minute or two conversation started up again slowly and then built, with topics flipping between construction, development, government corruption, and the global economic crisis. We joined in, and had fun comparing notes on our respective islands between mouthfuls of fried barracuda, rice, lentils and sweet potato washed down with ice cold Hairoun beer (St. Vincent‘s brew).

Later that afternoon we went exploring in the dinghy, and visited a couple really pretty beaches. We remembered seeing a tiny little cove with a sandy beach as we were nearing the anchorage when we first arrived, so thought we’d take a look. When we got there it turned out to be waaay nicer than we expected, and thought we’d have this great little spot all to ourselves, but….just as were beaching the dinghy a large (100’) motor yacht pulled up and anchored nearby. Oh well, we got here first! It was great nonetheless, with perfect water and sand, and some cool rock formations we didn‘t mind sharing.

That night was nice and calm too, but I got up to get a drink of water, and saw another bat in the boat! Yikes! I watched him flit right out, and woke Emmy by accident, and we laughed about having bats in the boat. Never had that happen before! The next morning we found what looked like evidence of Mr. Bat munching on a ripe banana we had sitting on the table.

So after a couple days of lollygagging around Canouan, we decided the weather was good for our push over to the Tobago Cays. It was only about 7 miles, so we didn’t need to get an early start. In fact it’s really best to arrive their around midday, so you can clearly see the reefs that surround the Cays, and we planned to head out around 11AM. We went through our normal procedure of stowing things well, as you never know what’s going to happen, and it’s better to be prepared.

We attached the 15 hp outboard motor to the pulley system we use to pull it up from the dinghy and secure it to the stern rail, and started hauling away. We’ve developed our own little system, where Emmy pulls the line and I “steer” the engine to the mounting bracket on the rail, and we had it about 5 inches from the bracket when the nylon strapping around the outboard somehow slipped through a D-ring that’s used to secure it. Sooo…it crashed down onto the pad (smashing my thumb a bit), then bounced off the transom of the boat (gouging a nickel sized hole in the gel coat), and splashed into the water! L

We both watched in shock as the engine sank to the bottom surprisingly slowly, due to air being trapped in the cover, trailing air bubbles and oil. We spent about a minute wondering out loud exactly what had happened, then I raced below to look at the manual. I knew two-stroke motors could be flushed out and got running again, but ours is a four stroke, and I wasn’t 100% sure what the procedure was. The manual said, “If the motor is submerged, have it serviced immediately.” Um, that could be tough.

First step was to get it off the bottom, so we rigged up a line to a cleat, I put on my mask and snorkel, and jumped in. The water was thankfully only about 12 feet deep, and quite clear (you could see the motor sitting on the bottom right from the boat), so I swam down to the motor and attached the line. As I was preparing to surface, I noticed that a big rock just a few feet away had several pair of waving lobster antenna sticking out from under it…not now guys!

We heaved the motor up and onto the bracket on the stern rail as oily salt water gushed out everywhere. We took the cover off and used the cockpit shower to rinse everything in fresh water,. Luckily we had cell service, and we called the folks in St. Croix I had purchased the engine from a couple of years ago. They were super helpful, and after a couple of minutes discussion it was time to dig in and try to rescue the darn thing. First came an oil change, and afterwards I drained salt water from the carburetor. When I took the spark plugs out salt water poured out of the lower cylinder, which didn’t do much for my spirits. I sprayed a bunch of T-9 lubricant in the plug holes, cleaned and dried the plugs and put them back in, then sprayed more T-9 all over the engine, especially in and around all the electrical parts and contacts. The mechanic in St. Croix said it was most important to get all the above done and get the engine started as soon as possible, and that I should expect it to be hard to start (yeah, no kidding!).

So fresh gas was squeezed into the engine, and a big pull on the starter cord! Nothing. Fifteen times and nothing. And then a little cough. And then a little more. And then it started! Of course you can’t run the engine long at all without it being in the water, so we had to put it back on the dinghy, using the same sling that had just failed! With a little extra webbing tied on we very carefully lowered the engine down and secured it. Rather amazingly I thought, the engine started right back up, and we let it run about 15 minutes or so, as directed.

I decided to see how it ran in gear, so went off on a test run, and it seemed okay. I’ll spare you the rest of the minutia, but as I write this it’s been a couple of weeks now, the engine is running fine, and usually starts on the first pull! Who’d a thought?

As “that day” ended, a local fisherman came up and offered us one of the most beautiful big Red Hind fish I’ve ever seen, and we gladly agreed. Emmy made some great soup with the head, and we fried the fish - it was great, and helped us recover from the shock of the entire dunking fiasco. The next day we went through the same exercise raising the outboard (well, maybe just a little more careful?), and we got on our way to the Tobago Cays a day later than expected. Whew.