The last few weeks of hurricane season - biding time in style

The hurricane season is coming to an end, which means that boats are on the move. Creeping out from Grenada’s safe bays, as if from hibernation, winches grind, anchor chains creak into motion, up up up against the sludgy layers of sea growth and months of stasis. And they’re off. Trinidad to haul out before heading to distant shores, or westward to Bonaire. Some are heading north.

But the season isn’t quite over, and that means some will be caught in the last tropical storms that ravage the region before quieting for another six months.

We lived in a state of limbo this week – all eyes and ears on the weather as a huge tropical storm developed out in the Atlantic ocean. Grenada  is wonderful but we have been feeling that urge to stretch our legs in new surroundings and the movement around us is infectious. So we planned to head north, to Carriacou for a start. But each day the wind and wave forecasts have delayed our departure. 

Hard to believe such rough weather was heading our way with this view from Secret Harbour marina!

 But as it is, cruiser life continues unabated as the days and hours and angry clouds move along.

I busied myself with beading and sudokus, after cabin cleaning and the continuous removal of mold. I combed the crumbling heat soaked streets of St. Georges with a friend, in search of a rubber spatula and shoes for her little girl. In and out of stores, each piled high with Chinese wares, junk junk junk. I spotted with glee, punk rock Halloween wigs and Hello Kitty sneakers.

Back on Shiloh there were chores to be done. While JW dug into the task of replacing a broken hatch, I learned that black silicone paste on a white boat is a nightmare. And once the messy, hot and dirty job was complete, I happened to spot from inside, that I could see the sun through the edge of the newly installed hatch.

 I’d wished that I hadn’t mentioned it when I found us pulling out the gloopy screws and reapplying thick layers of the black-paste-from-hell. As a result, JW has the signature hands of a working man, with black rimmed fingernails, mechanic-esque lines, worn deep in the grooves. But the hatch is watertight and this is apparently how we must view the project’s success.

 We spent some time on the Internet at our ‘secret’ high speed marina, Secret Harbour, and on jumping back in the dinghy to head back to the boat with 4 heavy jerry cans full of water, the starter motor handle came right off in JW’s hand. We stared at it dumbfounded for a moment but then my handyman ‘made a plan’ and took off the motor cover, reset the remaining part of the severed rope and it worked once more. 

 We ate a lot this week as well – delicious suppers on our friend’s yacht Khaya Moya, barbeques on the beach and even a roast pork feast at Taffy’s Welsh bar in Clarke’s Court Bay.

 So it’s a rough life, this living in limbo. The storm swung north and though we braced ourselves for whipping winds and torrential downpours last night, we were treated with a cool breeze for sleeping and a light rain that provided some water for dishwashing this morning.

And tomorrow we’ll head off, like many others, in search of new bays, new trails to hike, shops, beaches, wifi hot spots.

And some friends ask us if we get bored out here?!