Blackwattle in Bequia, WE SEE A STAR!

by Nancy Knudsen on 26 Jan 2007 The wind is always there and always from the east, and the island string we follow runs north south for a never ending beam reach…the showers come in small passing squalls that freshen the days full of sunshine…the anchorages are all westward facing so there are no lee shores…the water is clear aqua in the anchorages and plenty of firm sand to anchor in… is this why they call the Caribbean heaven?

And now, Bequia, most northerly island of the Grenadines ...and what a huge anchorage this is. It doesn’t take long to figure out why it’s one of the favourite anchorages in the Caribbean for sailors.– large easy anchorage, no high rise apartments, small seaside cottages higgledy piggledy along the shore, these days made into shops and restaurants.

The main road is a footpath along the beach-side, and if it’s high tide you just may get your feet wet.

We meet lots of old cruising friends here, including some Americans who have just completed their circumnavigation, heading back to – they know not what. (‘That’s us in under a year,’ I ruminate, ‘What on earth are we going to do when we get back?’)

We wander the pleasant streets, and visit the workshops for model boats, for which Bequia is famed. Here you can have your own boat modelled, and the fine intricate workmanship is very enticing. However, they run at over US$1200 per small boat, much more for a large model, so it’s not a light decision.

Close into the bay, the catamarans and yachts crowd the wide space. There are Lagoons, Beneteaus, Jeanneau's, home-builts – yachts of every different type and size. But further out, in the deeper water, the megayachts congregate – some a five-spreader sloops, sleek and silky, some great monstrosities of motor-yachts,, ugly and tasteless. Some are covered in toys – jetskis, tenders, windsurfers, helicopters. Others are tall ships, elegant and graceful. We watch their comings and goings with never flagging interest during sundowners.

The markets are a wonder – the competing stall holders- colourfully dressed, Caribbean style and dreadlocked all, are vicious in their competition and miserable in their chatter – they hassle, abuse, shove their face in between you and the fruit in your hand. The fruits are amazing though – freshest mango, huge avocado, blood grapefruit, fresh limes, mighty passionfruit, bananas straight from the tree. We dine richly, and suffer the aggressiveness of the market stall holders.

Actually we find a calm gentle woman in one corner, called ‘Princess’ and buy ALL our requirements daily from her – much to the anger of all the other dreadlocked crowd. .

A few days of chores – laundry and provisioning, swimming and Sundowners. They have cappuccinos here, and marvellous yoghurt – not seen for many a week. And then it happens….

Seeing a Star:

We’re just returning to the boat one day after a dinghy excursion, when Ted suddenly turns the boat and heads back the way we have come at great speed.

‘What what what are you doing?’ I shout over the wind. ‘Did you forget something?’
‘It must be, it can’t be, it wouldn’t be, IT IS! I think it is!’ he’s calling excitedly.
‘Who? Who is it?’ but I get no answer – he is in a fever of anticipation.

We skate across the water and then slush to a stop - curiously - at a small sailing boat. At least someone famous should be on a superyacht?

But no, it’s not Brooke Shields or Princess Caroline or even Madonna.

‘It’s Freya!’ he’s calling.
I rack my brains - Ah, maybe an old girlfriend I haven’t heard about? ‘Freya who?’

Sometimes the Skipper can muster a look of such belittlement that it’s hard to remember he’s such a nice guy underneath.

‘Freya’, he says in a slow kindergarten voice, waving at the small boat, ‘won the Hobart THREE TIMES IN A ROW – in ’63, ‘64 and ’65. You’re supposed to be a *%^$! Sailing Editor!’

‘Cruising,’ I correct him weakly. ‘Cruising Editor – nothing to do with huh–’
(condescending) ‘ - Racing!’

But here she is. Sitting tranquilly in Admiralty Bay, she just looks like a small modest boat, and people sail by her day after day, scarcely sparing her a look - One of the all-time stars of the notorious Sydney to Hobart Yacht Race.

We talk to the crewman on board, and he is well aware of her fame. ‘She’s owned by an Englishman, John Coburn,’ he tells us – 'he won’t be back now until April.’

I guess a girl has to be thankful that one’s other half gets so excited about - sailing boats.

Now it’s on to Tobago Cays, and whatever awaits us…..


To see Blackwattle’s current position in the world, courtesy of Yotreps, click HERE