Places to Go, People to See

Vacationing is tough.  It was to be a busy day, and I was irritated by the number of things we had to do.  The plan was to replenish our provisions, get gasoline for the outboard motor, clear out of Customs & Immigration, ascend the mountain to the home of Yellow Man for lunch, sail to Carriacou, anchor, clear Customs, and the list goes on and on.  I was ready to hurl myself out a window, if I could only find one with enough height to cause any measurable damage.

Customs seemed to take forever.  I smiled at the officials until my face cracked, despite the fact I wanted to scream “who bloody cares about the gross tonnage of my boat?”   They had a mountain of completed paperwork behind the desk dating back to Columbus.  Who would ever look at this, or care?  “Not so fast,” the official cautioned when he noticed my excitement heighten as I sensed that we were near completion.  “You now have to go to Immigration, and it’s at the airport,” he instructed.  All this, just to leave a country?  I’m certain that you can obtain an export permit for nuclear weapons with less hassle, in most other countries.

We were behind schedule when we began the Everest Assault up the mountain to the home of Yellow Man and Lady B.  Once there, we settled in to an ice-cold Carib and allowed Lady B to demonstrate her culinary prowess as we enjoyed the great view from the clouds.  She did not disappoint.  We were treated to a great barbecued chicken lunch, at a great price. 

The short sail to Hillsborough was uneventful, except when I woke from my nap to change the courtesy flag.  We anchored near the main pier and prepared the dinghy so that we could dispense with the Customs and Immigration ordeal as quickly as possible. 

The main pier was lined with professionally trained youths with Union Cards waiting to watch my dinghy while I slipped into Customs.  For $5 EC, I purchased twenty minutes of peace of mind, I think.  I’m really not sure what would have happened if I told all ten of them to take a hike, but for $1.85 US, I was not prepared to find out at that moment.

Hillsborough was a busy and colorful little town.  Hundreds upon hundreds of people moved briskly in every direction, carrying on some form of important-looking activity.  Busy shops lined the main street, and it was quite unlike any Caribbean town I had visited to date.  We would return later for a closer look.

Roll up the Sidewalks, the Suspects are in Town

We had read about the restaurant Callaloo by the Sea in the Doyle Guide, so we decided to give it a try for dinner.  It had the added advantage of being right on the beach, so we thought we could perform a shore landing in the dinghy, avoid the Dinghy Mafia, and get a great meal.  Afternoon binocular reconnaissance confirmed the feasibility of this plan.

The actual landing was quite another matter.  First, the use of incandescent lights on the island is a federal crime, so we were in total darkness.  Using skills picked up from the Helen Keller navigation guide, I “felt” my way into shore as driver of the dinghy.  We bounced off several large boulders, broken concrete slabs (damage from Hurricane Lenny), sharp glass, and submerged tree trunks before coming to rest in front of the restaurant.  The beaches of Normandy were not this well fortified.

We had to traverse more ruins from Hurricane Lenny before finding our way to a very beautiful patio dining area next to the beach.  It had great atmosphere.  There were only 3 people in the restaurant on this Wednesday night, but for some strange reason, the hostess took a full 30 seconds to decide if there was an available table without a prearranged reservation.   The food was excellent, but the service was painfully slow, even by our standards.

Afterwards, we decided to take a walk down the main street and see what kind of trouble we could get ourselves into.  That would not be a problem.  It was 10 PM and there was not a single person, goat, or chicken on any of the streets.  There wasn’t even a light on, let alone an open drinking establishment.  We retreated back to the dinghy, avoided more land mines, made a perfect beach entry, returned to the boat, and poured four of the most perfect rummers ever made.