Log #17, April 2008
Back in Rodney bay we finally caught up with old Humber Sailing club friends, Wendy and Dan on Halcyon Days and got to have the dinner at Jambe De Bois at the foot of Pigeon Island before they left for the Pitons the next day. Heading back to the boats in the dark we all got drenched in a sudden rain. We were expecting Gary and
Nell who were arriving at Rodney Bay around four in the afternoon the next day from Canada. We were hoping to leave the day after and head down to the Pitons and cross to Wallibou where some us were going to climb the volcano on the leeward side which is the steepest and most inaccessible of the two Dan and I had a memorable climb up the windward side back in 2000 in a hastily arranged afternoon trip which had ended for the ladies halfway up. For the men there was a lot of prodding and pushing by each other until we found ourselves at the top but with very little time to descend. Sunset is virtually instanteous here. After slugging up the last few hundred feet through the lava scrag I remember cautiously crawling up to the edge of the rim and peering down into the crater. The sides were covered in a fine moss covering the lava slag giving an eerie, primal and Jurassic feeling. Sensing something above me I found Dan standing on the edge in total gonzo mode unconcerned by the gusting winds all around and waiting to take off like a human kite. We noted that the trail followed the rim and disappeared over the top and down the other side. We marked this down for a future hike. Descending was a bit of a rush but we found the girls waiting patiently back down in the parking lot with the taxi driver. We had tried the stunt of running in the final 200m yards like a couple of marathon runners making like we had completed the whole trail in this fashion. But they were not buying it and claimed they had heard us discussing the deception a mile away.
The next day we cleaned up the boat and got ready for company. Gladys was already on shore watching a soccer game, some kind of European playoff so Geoff had his afternoon planned. We cleaned the boat and tried to get organized for adding two to the crew. The main airport in St. Lucia is at the southern end of the island and can be a long drive if there is traffic as well as expensive, roughly 80 US. We left around 4pm figuring that would be the time they would appear at the drop off spot but on the way I saw the skipper of a classic plastic anchored next to us and was curious about the make and year so I stopped to chat. Well one thing leading to another revealed that he had just finished a circumnavigation lasting 11 years and the boat was a Morgan as opposed to a Cal which had been my guess. It was one of the older Morgans built for racing and cruising, vintage 1968, before the company had gone into the building of charter boats with their wider girths and excellent live aboard quarters. More important we had the same original engine a 4-107 Westerbeke and had had similar experiences. He had gone through the same trepidations about setting off on a big adventure with an aged engine. Somewhere in the mid Pacific he told us he got over it and by New Zealand he was a true believer. Our engines are Perkin Blocks marinized by the American outfit Westerbeke and a forerunner to the famous 4-108 which was the most ubiquitous diesel engine in the marine industry for decades till Yanmar surpassed them. They can be a little discerning, with oil drips and leaks, but, if maintained will probably rust out before burning out. We were able to help him with a properly calibrated dipstick which was a spare so we just gave it to him and he wrote us out some crib sheets for living with the engine. Of course this took time and with some prodding from Deb we resumed our original mission to pick up Nellie and Gary. Well no worry because by the time we got to the bar we discovered they had been there for an hour and had
Back at the boat we got settled in and as usual when you haven’t seen people for a while the adrenalin kicks in and you are up pretty late deep into a gab fest. The next morning we all went in to do some groceries and buy beer and I kept Nell in a state of anxiety about a cruising stamp she was suppose to of been issued at the airport and how we were probably have to drive all the way back to address the issue. Gary in on the play claimed that he had just assumed that she had taken care of it. Now normally after a life time off dealing with me she has a built in bullshit alarm but being in a strange place was enough to tip her sensibilities to allow me to have a couple of hours of fun with a constant “how we gonna handle this” and the then garnishing the thing with, “we got to sail on the tide” routine, as if, since we were just moving a few miles down the coast to the Pitons .
To be continued......
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