Scuba Diving, at Last

Every trip, I promise to go SCUBA diving.  Every trip, I get caught up doing nothing and never seem to find the time.  This trip was different.

We chose to use the service of Dive Bequia, partly because their base was exactly 100 feet from where we were moored, and partly because we had partied with one of their dive masters, Dawn Crosby (DiDi).  She promised to be our dive master if we promised to make the 100 foot trip to their base.  It was settled.

The last time I dove was twenty years ago in February on a rocky shore in Nova Scotia.  I remember changing in a snow storm and entering the frigid 15-foot breakers.  Bequia was a little different.

I was a very experienced diver, with over 200 underwater hours logged, in some very difficult conditions.  I was concerned that Dive Bequia would not accept my 1978 NAUI certification.  I tried not to look confused while suiting up, however some of the equipment has changed.  I was almost “busted” when I asked why my BCD did not have a dump valve and a CO2 inflator.  Apparently, PADI certifications do not teach the use of either, so it was obvious I was from another time.  Given my experience with dozens of BCD models, I was trained in several different procedures, and it was no big deal.  Five minutes in the water, it was like I have never been away.

In the end, DiDi lead us on a spectacular dive off Devil’s Table.  I was impressed with the fine service of Dive Bequia, and you could not beat them for convenience.  We were returned just in time to enjoy conch rotis at the Green Boley, right next door.  So, when choosing a dive operator, be sure to ask about their proximity to a roti vendor.

The TV show has nothing on us.

This was Dawn’s first experience cruising in the Caribbean.  Given the sometimes challenging sailing conditions, I asked Round Man to be certain that she understood what she was getting herself into.  I was assured that she had "checked out" and not to worry.

Thirty minutes into the first passage (waves were 10 - 12 feet on the beam, winds over 25), I noticed that she was looking a little uncomfortable.  Ten minutes later, she was looking downright terrified.  Shortly after that, breakfast was refunded.  She was not a happy camper.

I was puzzled.  I was assured that she had hung around Yacht Clubs for years.  What was not understood, was that she meant just that - hung around - not actually sailed.  Silly me.  I guess you have to ask the tough questions.

Anyway, I quickly understood that we had a sailing novice on board, and that the entire itinerary  was in jeopardy.  If she decided we were NOT sailing, then we had a problem.  I quickly assessed the situation and realized there was only one strategy that would get us through - I would resort to the bold-faced lie.

Here’s how it worked.  At the start of each difficult adventure, I would totally misrepresent the facts.  For example, Day 2 conditions called for winds 25 - 30 knots, waves 12 - 15 feet, for 3 hours.  I spun this (lied), explaining that we would experience smooth water for most of the journey and hardly feel the wind because we were sailing downhill.  It took no time before my word wasn’t worth squat.

I amazed myself the number of times I used the same strategy.  There was the speedboat ride in 8 - 10 foot swells in open ocean to Petit Tabac, the dinghy landing in 2 foot groundswell in Canouan, the Canouan - Bequia sail,  and the list goes on.  Another adventure, another lie.

She took it like a real champion, and I have to give her credit for not murdering me in my sleep.  In the end, we all returned home alive, wiser.

One Great Big “You’re Welcome”

We tied up to one of Marcus “Ice Man” Williams’ moorings in Canouan.  When he came by later to collect, he recognized me, got real excited, and insisted on coming aboard.  He had to thank me in person for some favor.

Apparently, he applied for a travel visa to visit Barbados.  In order to prove that he was a legitimate businessman, he printed off a copy of my Boat Boys of the Grenadines article and showed the official the section describing his business.  On the strength of that article, he was given the visa.

He refused payment for the mooring, and offered to refill my water tanks.  In fact, “anything you want,” he said.  Just hearing that I helped him was enough for me.