Ramblings from Whisper Cove (Grenada)

 

As the drama of an uncomfortable overnight crossing up from Trinidad slowly fades from the front of our minds, we ease ourselves back to the good life in Grenada. We’re back in Woburn Bay, anchored opposite Whisper Cove marina once more..

This means peaceful evenings listening to the cicadas, palm fringed surrounding hills, lambi boys waving as they whizz by on their way to work, and the friendly familiarity of the cruiser’s radio Net

Being here also means no limit Texas hold ‘em on the shaded veranda of Whisper Cove Marina as the sun goes down on a Friday night.

21 players; All the usual suspects I’ve played before are there. There’s also a good smattering of assorted pirates, hillbillies and cowboys with whom I hadn’t previously had the pleasure. The first game back turned out to be a slow one with lots of chat at the table. Some wonderful hands came my way, and with a few lucky all-in calls, some hours later I come away with the win - splitting the cash with Steve the landlord. ($345 each). Won the second week here too! (…but lost (came 3rd) on my third visit)

Relaxed back in to the lazy life in the cove: Jenny’s fresh veg market on Wednesdays, pizzas at Cruisers Galley, bin days Tuesdays and Fridays… and other than an occasional trip ashore for a bag of ice, really not much else… just lots of sitting around in the sun (…and frequent rain intervals) and watching the various yachts, dinghies and fishermen making their way around the bay. Nights have been delightfully quite, with nothing but cicada buzz and gentle lapping to disturb the silence. All in all, I’d have to say, I rather like Woburn Bay.

In slightly less idyllic news, my psoriasis has come back out to play. Having read back over my diary, for the last few years this is roughly the time of year that it goes bad for a bit, 2022 is no exception. Oh well.

It’s been raining solidly for the last two days with more forecast - happily an unusual occurrence. This is good for rainwater collection, keeping the deck clean, and not much else. The temperature, despite the clouds and rain, is still stubbornly remaining around the uncomfortably humid 30 degree mark both day and night.

We had planned to begin heading North this week, but doing so in rainy, occasionally thunderous conditions is not something we need to do, while we have the benefit of time on our hands. So for now at least, it looks like here we’ll stay…

These ‘occasionally thunderous’ conditions gave rise to an interesting night a couple of nights back. At some stage after midnight, the bridle jumped off the anchor chain, something unusual, but not unheard of in pitchy conditions. I awoke to some nasty grinding noises - either chain running through the windlass or chain rubbing on rock. Resetting the bridle, I needed to let a little more chain out. This meant we were swinging in a wider arc, and swung around to be above a shallow patch that contacted the keel. Although we were aware of it, the shallow hadn’t troubled us for the last two weeks anchored here. As we scuffed the bottom, the boat would lurch and judder in a concerning way, then free herself again as the wind swung us back. Thankfully, no harm done, and come morning, I was able to reset the anchor chain length and bridle to avoid any further problems.

Today… 1st November, the official ‘end’ of our first hurricane season - Yay! We survived!

Hurricane Lisa however didn’t get the memo, and is apparently developing in the Atlantic as I type (according to this morning’s cruisers Net). A few boats are heading off, but as we’re in no hurry, we’ll wait in the relative safety of Woburn Bay for a few more days.

Someone was playing silly buggers on the radio net here this morning. Each time ‘Fast Manicoo’ (a local delivery guy) tried to speak, someone ‘keyed’ over him, blocking his transmission. This prompted Cy (Si) a grumpy old Net controller from Louisiana who I know from poker to come on and threaten in his drawling Southern tone:

“To the person keying.. We will hunt you down and find you” …. Ooh the drama!

Also heard on the radio today that developing Hurricane Lisa, will be hitting Belize soon (well clear to the NW of us), and that she’s been joined by another system; Martin, who is currently building in the Atlantic.

It’s Sunday 6th November - our Aussie friend Troy who we met back in Greece is setting off from Las Palmas today. He’s coming across with the ARC rally and should be with us in 3 weeks or so.

Today hasn’t begun the best. That said, the sun is now shining and any Lisa, Martin or whoever-else associated wet weather has, for now at least, abated

So why not a good day you ask…

First thing, I had little black moving weevily things in my cornflake bowl as I’m eating them for breakfast - ahh.. the joys of living on a boat in the tropics.

Followed up by finding salty water in the bilge (thankfully only a minor dribble). Then the washing machine started playing up and kicking the generator power off, something I thought I’d fixed with the new pump motor from the UK. Not the best day.

Oh well - Theres lots of people with worse problems in the world than mine.

12th November, after one final (successful) poker game at Whisper Cove last night, we up anchor this morning to wrench ourselves - and it really is a wrench - away from somewhere we’ve grown to love. Whisper Cove/Woburn Bay has been our relaxed return to the water home for the last month. I think we’d both hope to return back to this spot one day.

Upped anchor and collected water from a slow dribbling pipe at the marina dock, the sun is shining, it’s all good. Left there mid morning and made our way the short jump (an hour or so) around to Prickly Bay. Here we hope to find the ‘Bread Buns and Baguettes’ advertised on the net each morning.

We drop anchor in 10m to the rear of the main pack, set first time, and I’m writing this as we gently rock around in our new temporary home.

High drama within minutes of arriving in Prickly Bay: Chez is below, I’m up on deck. There’s a huge loud cracking sound about 300m away. It’s like someone’s sail exploding in the wind. I whip my head round to see a large (house sized) section of cliff drop and smash in the sea. On top of the cliff it’s a jungly hill with eco lodge style cabins about 20m from the edge.

No big wave, just a cloud of dust to mark the spot - this clears in a minute or two, then nothing - no sirens, no news helicopter, just the lapping of the sea. Seems strange that such an event may not be marked other than by a few lines in my diary. Next morning after a peaceful night we do a major sort through and clean up of the fridge and food stores - hopefully marking an end to the weevils brief visit.

We followed that with a slightly nicer activity: A swim in the significantly clearer, warm water here - which we both enjoyed. Nice for Chez as she’s a rare dipper. I took the opportunity while I was in to give the waterline a gentle brushing to hopefully avoid getting another beard of weed down there. Later, together up on the bow taking in our new surrounds, we saw a large (1m ish long) clean backed turtle - long time no see.